


Spider-Man: Threnody

by PurePazaak



Series: Spider-Man: Beyond Void and Depths [3]
Category: Spider-Man - All Media Types
Genre: Blood and Gore, Gen, Genosha, Horror, Mutants, Psychological Drama
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-28
Updated: 2020-06-28
Packaged: 2021-03-04 05:02:15
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 16
Words: 94,649
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24964186
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PurePazaak/pseuds/PurePazaak
Summary: Three months after their conflict with SHIELD, Peter Parker and Felicia Hardy try to live a peaceful life in New York City amidst rising waves of anti-mutant sentiments. As the Brotherhood of Mutants moves to enact an ambitious operation against the United States, however, the couple find themselves in the midst of revolutionary events with wide-ranging repercussions.Unbeknownst to anyone, a vile terror grows within the very depths of the city even as the dark void of space obscures the coming of unimaginable suffering...-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------Spider-Man AU wherein an 18-year-old Peter Parker acquires both his spider-powers and the symbiote at the same time.--Part 3 of a trilogy.-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Relationships: Peter Parker/Felicia Hardy, Scott Summers/Kitty Pryde
Series: Spider-Man: Beyond Void and Depths [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1804039
Comments: 4
Kudos: 22





	1. Chapter 1

**2006**

**Three Months after the Dismantlement of SHIELD**

It had taken her some time, but Kitty Pryde finally came to the firm conclusion that the late evening hours were, without a doubt, the worst part of the day.

While most of the other inmates at the facility asserted that the mornings were far more unbearable due to the grim daily cocktail of medical exams and reintegration lessons taking up all their time from roll call until lunchtime, she usually simply spaced out as the military instructors and doctors droned on in their monotonous voices. She had stopped putting any actual effort into the exercises months ago, so rather than suffering through the mornings like so many other mutants did she actually felt grateful that she had something to do for a few hours. The same applied for the evening classes and examinations.

In the late afternoon hours allotted for the inmates’ recreational time, however, she could do little more than mull in silent awareness over the living nightmare that her life had become and try as she had to interact with the other mutants in her cell block she could not help but fall into depressed reveries sooner or later. She had come to suspect that the limited freedom gained after dinnertime only really served to remind them all of what they had once enjoyed on a daily basis without even appreciating it, and it wasn’t much of a leap from there to think that it was also meant to highlight what could be regained by toeing the line.

It was thus during one of those very evening hours that Kitty came to her conclusion while lying in bed and staring up at her cell’s concrete-grey ceiling, as she was wont to do until the lights were shut off. Although she had often spent that time in the past wandering about and talking with other mutants, she recently decided that the effort was no longer worth it with the guards observing her every movement.

Kitty sighed heavily and scratched at an itch under her suppression collar. As she did so, a small red light began to blink rapidly in alert of potential tampering.

“Have you finally reached your limit?” An older, grey-haired man sitting on a stool at the other end of the cell put his book down and smiled wearily beneath drooping glasses. “You could at least warn me before you blow your head off, you know? It’s only proper manners.”

“I know how far to push it, don’t you worry.” She smiled thinly and looked at him as she ceased her scratching, the blinking light dying out a second later. “And what’s with you and exploding heads? This isn’t Battle Royale, we just get that electric shock.”

“I told you I saw a man’s head go off like a bag of confetti during my first month here.”

“Well, maybe that was actually his mutant power? To explode like a bag of confetti at will.”

“What, you still don’t believe me?”

Kitty sighed again and sat up in her bed, leaning her back against the wall to better look at Henry Philip McCoy, known to his friends simply as Hank. The Savage Land’s oldest inmate wasn’t exactly prone to exaggerations, that much was well-known; she only wished that his sarcasm were a tad less dry, though she suspected that his sense of humour was the reason they had come to get along so well with each other in the first place.

“I do believe you. But I still think it was an isolated incident, some reaction from his powers to the drugs in the collars.”

“Maybe.” He grinned mischievously, his sharp canines a distant reminder of the animalistic body his suppression collar was hiding. “Oooor maybe he just scratched under his collar one too many times?”

“You’re the one with the fleas, you tell me.”

“Ouch, low blow. Someone’s testy today.”

“No I’m not!” She grimaced as she sat up straighter. “And if I were, it’d be because you’re bringing that trash in here again.”

“What, this?” Hank looked down at the book in his hands, a small paperback tome titled ‘Procedures for Reintegration into Human Society’.

“How can you read that garbage?”

“Didn’t I tell you already?” He smiled amusedly, again flashing his sharp canines. “I’m not actually reading it, just rearranging the words in my mind. It’s not like they allow us any other sort of literature in here.”

“Seriously? That sounds like something you’d do after going off the deep end.”

“Hey, let’s see you spend over a year in here without losing it.” He shrugged. “Give it a shot sometime. It’s better than brooding over your boyfriend every night.”

“Maybe I like brooding.”

“Who doesn’t?” Hank put the book down on his lap, adopting a more earnest tone of voice. “I just think it’s better reserved for when you can actually do something about it.”

She grimaced and remained silent, knowing the truth in his words only too well.

Brooding and worrying had indeed come to take up most of her late evenings, although she practiced both activities with less intensity over the month since Scott had been taken down to the Tier Five Block. And yet, if getting to or even hearing from him was a certified impossibility, what more could she do as she worried about his condition?

“I don’t really have many options here, do I?” She could hear the bitterness in her own voice, despite her earlier attempts maintaining a playful air. “I’ve tried all I could already, and for what? The guards watch me like a hawk wherever I go now and they rearranged the cells last week. I don’t know what more I can do.”

Kitty could tell at a glance that Hank understood how she felt. Having spent longer in the Savage Land than any other mutant due to his impressive refusal to give in to the indoctrination and his repeated escape attempts, he must have seen his own fair share of heavy-hearted nights. He, however, had never had to worry about a looming time limit as she did due to the special status the administrators had assigned to him which meant that, unlike the other inmates in the facility, he was not subjected to chemical therapy after four months of resistance. She, on the other hand, only had a few weeks left at best until the deadline.

What truly terrified Kitty wasn’t even the eventual day when she would be pumped full of chemicals to wipe her memories before she was sent back out into society with a suppression collar, but the thought that Scott would still be stuck in this hellish place indefinitely – blind and alone.

_‘Fucking bastards.’_ The fact that the process of the ‘Release Procedure’ was an open secret only made her detest the government’s brashness all the more. Hypnotism, potent drugs and intensive reintegration lessons – everyone had seen the results on the departing mutants, those who had, following hours of torture, come to truly believe in the Xavier Institute’s dogmas on mutant-kind. ‘Acceptance comes with peace and peace comes with cooperation’, ‘powers should only ever serve the community, never the self’, ‘suppressors put others at ease and make possible reintegration’… the list of bullshit proverbs went on and on, and no mutant could ever leave the facility without having first been made to firmly believe in them.

At first, Kitty had somehow believed that they could get through it all one way or another. While all inmates were eventually subjected to the Release Procedure, she had heard rumours that some could be back out in society within as little as a month depending on the level of cooperation shown. She had done her best to act the part of a good inmate for the first weeks, swallowing her pride and actually paying attention to the disgusting tripe being instructed in the Reintegration Classes. The mere thought made her grimace in shame; as much as she hated the government for having brought her to this place, she hated herself even more for not having shown resistance from the first day onwards. But toe the line she did, as long as it marked the quickest route to freedom.

That had been before the administration had determined that Scott’s powers, unlike hers, fell within their parameters for possible weaponization and dragged him off to the deepest parts of the facility that no other inmates were allowed to even go near. Only then had she thrown aside her veneer meek submissiveness and trampled it into the dust. She had been desperate, violent and actively conflictive for weeks before Hank had helped her finally calm down – though not before she caused a giant ruckus by attempting to break in to the Tier Five Block.

By that time, she had been tagged an agitator and a flight risk, resulting in the facility’s fiercest laptops being ordered to drag her off into solitary confinement at the slightest sign of trouble. The administration regularly moved the prisoners she interacted with to other cell blocks to stop her from potentially plotting an escape or a riot, to the extent that only Hank even dared approach her now due to the special privileges he enjoyed amongst some of the guards.

There were many stories about the Tier Five Block; whisperings of grotesque experiments bordering on physical torture for days on end…

_‘Scott… goddammit.’_

Over the weeks the terror, rage and desperation had slowly dulled down to a more manageable level. The icy-cold feelings in her gut that had at times kept her from even sleeping until dawn as she lay huddled under her sheets now only gripped her in those evening hours that she spent staring at the ceiling of her small cell.

She knew perfectly well that even dulled feelings could tear at her soul like a bloody rake if she let her guard down for even a second.

“I just don’t see it,” Kitty said slowly after a long silence.

Hank put his book down and looked at her quietly with the paternal concern that made him so popular amongst most of the inmates.

“I don’t…” She felt a lump in her throat and lowered her gaze to hide her dampening eyes. “I don’t see an end to all this. This nightmare.”

“Kitty…” He looked about at the open entrance to the cell and made his way towards her.

“There’s no escape, is there? In a few weeks I’ll be gone, I won’t be me…” She gritted her teeth angrily as she realized that she was on the edge of sobbing. “And Scott… he’ll still be here…”

Hank leaned down by her bed and carefully placed a warm hand on her shoulder.

“Kitty,” he said, almost whispering as he glanced back over his shoulder again. “Child… there’s still hope.”

“Yeah,” she sniffled. “Don’t I know it.”

“I mean it.”

There was something in his tone that made Kitty look into McCoy’s eyes where, for the first time in weeks, she saw a fierce glint of determination.

“What are you saying?” Her voice was now as quiet as his had been, her growing despair now firmly halted in its tracks.

“I’ve heard things, Kitty. From the outside world.”

“Right.” She smiled thinly, sadly. “More activists holding peaceful marches? Or is it some new treaty the US won’t sign?”

“No.” His tone was firm, like he had suddenly drawn vigour from some deep, unknown source. “The time for that is over. This is different.”

Kitty’s smile faltered as she realized the immensity of his words. A familiar feeling was suddenly growing in her chest, one she had almost completely forgotten in the weeks since she had begun to completely abandon hope.

“What are you talking about?” Her voice was barely more than a whisper.

Hank grinned once more, his unnatural canines almost reflecting the dim glow of the cell’s lights.

“The Brotherhood is finally on the move, Kitty Pryde. And they’re bringing the Winter Soldier along with them.”


	2. Chapter 2

_‘Ah, hell. I’m gonna be late again.’_

The realization, as similar ones in the past so often had, came to Peter Parker abruptly in mid-swing as he performed a wide upwards arc to gain speed and momentum. He frowned and uncomfortably readjusted his backpack, chiding himself silently as he was buffeted by the wind. _‘Well, at least I have a really good excuse this time; holding up a hot dog stand while its owner fixes a wheel is exactly the sort of vital assistance that Spider-Man is supposed to offer the community, after all…’_

While he’d gotten a free hot dog out of the ordeal as thanks, Peter felt like it would overall be better to just not mention any of it to Felicia, figuring that whatever reason she could imagine for his tardiness was most likely a good deal more heroic than the truth.

_‘Was a pretty damn good hot dog, though.’_

The sun was already beginning to set by the time he reached the area where they usually met up, roughly at the midpoint between Queens and Empire State University. Even though Peter no longer resided in the latter, despite having been granted free accommodation by the university following the previous academic year’s ‘kidnapping incident’, he still had to go over to the campus for classes on a regular basis and consequently wore his backpack between the two locations for the sake of convenience. _‘I hope no one was filming me. I looked lame enough already hefting that cart up, the raggedy-ass rucksack on my back is really just the cherry on top.’_

There were perks, however, to no longer living on campus. Peter didn’t have to perform anywhere near as elaborate manoeuvres at the end of a patrol to make sure he wasn’t followed or sighted on approach by students, and during weekends and days without classes he could simply head out from his and Felicia’s apartment and start his daily routine from a relatively central location. _‘And those are only the benefits of living there as Spider-Man; for Peter Parker there are a whole lot more.’_

Peter had moved into Felicia’s apartment – which had formerly been her ‘safe house’ – almost immediately after they had become a couple. The place had been heavily refurbished and decorated in the weeks following his battle with Tony Stark, and despite its small size it had come to acquire the sort of warm appeal that could only ever be attributed to ‘home’. The apartment afforded them privacy and peace and, most importantly, was _theirs_ – even though Peter suspected that the legal status of the building’s ownership was murky at best, what with the former proprietor having been one of Felicia’s former criminal acquaintances.

Moving in with his girlfriend had been a big step for Peter, and he sometimes wondered what Uncle Ben would have thought of the development. _‘Probably a frown here and a smile there. He always did have a soft spot for Felicia, though he probably didn’t know at the time that she was gearing herself up for a life of crime.’_ Somehow, however, he couldn’t help but think that his uncle would have gotten over that fact; the man had often told him that finding true happiness in life was such a challenge that when it finally did come within your sights you should do all in your power to nab it with both hands and never let go. Peter had always found that phrase cheesy and never really understood its real meaning until just recently.

Propelling himself skywards after a long arc, Peter caught sight of Felicia long before he reached the rooftop she was waiting atop. The notorious burglar was sitting cross-legged on the edge of the building wearing her usual outfit sans her balaclava and hoodie, which she normally only sported when actually on a job. The wind was softly rocking her white shoulder-length hair as she looked up from her cell phone and gave him a small wave.

As had been the case for the past few months, the mere act of seeing her again somehow uplifted his entire day from merely regular to fantastic, a fact that he had ultimately opted to keep to himself due to its perceived sappiness.

Returning the wave, Peter released the web he’d been swinging up on and landed skilfully on the building’s edge right next to her, neither too close nor too far. _‘Nailed it.’_

“Well, well, well,” Felicia drawled as she stood up, pocketing her phone and throwing him a wry smile. “Look who finally deigned to show up! None other than Spider-Man himself, oh my!”

“Okay, firstly, nothing to say about that landing? Really? It’s not easy to get the distance right like that, you know?” Peter dropped his backpack on the floor and removed his mask. “And secondly... well, sorry. Something came up and I got involved.”

“Oh? Got involved, did you?” Her blue eyes almost glimmered in the setting sun as she raised an eyebrow. “I’m not letting you off the hook if it was anything short of a hostage situation involving bombs and ninjas.”

“Hot dog seller couple of blocks down busted the wheel on his cart, so I helped him replace it.”

“Alright, you’re off the hook.” She took a step towards him. “Although I do notice a suspicious absence of hot dogs on your person after such a critical detour.”

“What, you wanted one?” Peter grinned. “I could probably still find the guy, he’d be happy to hand out one or two.”

She shrugged and took another step. “Nah, too time-consuming. Looks like you’re just gonna have to make up for it some other way, Mr. Parker.”

“Anything specifi-” Peter’s words were drowned out as she finally closed the distance between them and their lips met.

For a long moment, not even the perpetual sounds of the city below could reach either of them as they held each other in a tight embrace.

When they finally broke the kiss they simply stood there at the edge of the building, resting their foreheads together.

“Well,” Peter said after a while, smiling sheepishly. “Maybe I should get more involved in the local hot dog sellers? They might need a new champion for their cause.”

“Sounds like a good balance to me.” She returned the smile as she gazed into his eyes. “I steal from the rich, you help out the catering community. Everyone wins.”

Peter couldn’t help but laugh. While he had initially been bothered by comments like that – namely those that reminded him that his girlfriend had no intention whatsoever of giving up her life of crime – he had come to take them in stride over time. Felicia Hardy, despite having been set on that path by her father and to her own chagrin, seemed to genuinely enjoy what she did, and she knew damn well that she was good at it to boot. It wasn’t anything like kleptomania, greed for money or an addiction to the rush of breaking the law – she was simply happy to be the best there was at something, even if that something happened to completely clash with the law.

Aunt May had often told him that the only person who could truly change someone was the individual in question, and Peter had gone into his relationship with Felicia determined not to try to force her to change, accepting her for all she was and only ever suggesting the idea of a future career change – never even thinking to go so far as to demand that she do so. Her choice of profession still clashed with his ideology on crime-fighting, but he was flexible enough to put those differences aside whenever he saw her. As for the white-haired girl, she was well aware of his feelings and had reduced her burglaries to two per month, which at least felt like a start.

 _‘That’s just what love is, I guess.’_ They still had their whole lives ahead of them to figure everything out together, come what may.

“So,” Peter said at length as the couple sat down together on the edge of the rooftop, “how was your day?”

“Not bad. I’m enjoying working at this new gym a whole deal more than the last one.” Felicia looked up towards the darkening sky as the last traces of sunlight gave way to the night. “A bunch more employees there since, you know, it’s not just a front for my dad this time, so I actually get breaks now. I’ve been catching up on the news.”

“Anything interesting today? I’ve just been in classes.”

“You haven’t heard?” She shot him a mischievous grin. “Two words for you: Steve Rogers.”

Peter’s interest was immediately piqued upon hearing the name that of the man who had singlehandedly dragged the country into both a national and international crisis over the last month.

Steve Rogers, more commonly known worldwide as Captain America, was a familiar name to almost every resident of the United States from the myriad movies, TV shows and comic books that had been produced about his exploits in World War II. The man was a cultural icon from an age long past, especially due to his untimely demise in the line of duty near the end of the war. Consequently, to say that the general public was shocked and incredulous after learning that the man was alive and in his prime thanks to some Nazi cryogenic technology was a severe understatement, to say the least.

That reaction, however, was nothing in light of what was to come soon thereafter.

Steve Rogers had not only survived ‘on ice’ for around sixty years – he’d been kept that way by none other than the US government so that they could extract the secrets of the Super Soldier Serum in his blood over several decades. Tony Stark had made a public reappearance alongside the national icon from a hidden location and had leaked countless files, audio and video recordings, and photographs that proven the government and SHIELD’s involvement in the operation while making no effort to hide his own complicity.

When it was Steve Rogers’ turn to speak in front of the camera he reiterated his love for his nation and its people, but said he was now convinced that the United States had been rotting away at its core for decades and that he saw no other choice but to openly oppose it so as to bring it back onto the rightful path. He publicly renounced the name of Captain America and adopted a new moniker that reflected his decades of hibernation – the Winter Soldier.

That had been roughly a month past, and the country was still in a state of constant turmoil. The international community had condemned the United States for its immoral conducts while the general populace and most media outlets were in an uproar over such a treatment of a national hero. The government’s response had been a mess of contradictions for several days – ranging from outright denial of the accusations to claims that he was an impostor, all the while demanding that Tony Stark face justice in a US court for his betrayal of national security. Finally, caving in under the constant pressure being piled on it by its own people, the state accepted partial responsibility for what had been done while laying the lion’s share of the blame on prior administrations and SHIELD.

Naturally, such a half-hearted concession had done almost nothing to calm the public, who on occasions had resorted to public marches and even outright riots in several cities. Then, a week prior, Steve Rogers had stoked the flames after charging into the United States embassy in Berlin and breaking out a blue-skinned mutant they had been keeping there for unknown purposes. The leaked video footage of Rogers, now donning a black uniform in lieu of his old red, white and blue one as he singlehandedly beat up an entire platoon of Marines, made the public truly realize that he had not just been putting on airs when he’d given his speech alongside Stark. It had hardly come as a surprise when he’d been branded a terrorist by the United States President himself the following morning.

In light of such a wild rollercoaster of events concerning the man, Peter was hardly surprised that any updates involving the name ‘Steve Rogers’ promised to be a good deal more exciting than the day’s regular news.

“What’s the old rapscallion been up to now?”

Felicia leaned in closer so that their shoulders were touching as they gazed upon the city below.

“Not all newspapers are reporting this, but in Mysterio and a couple others it said that the Winter Soldier was seen in London yesterday, running from guys in suits.”

“Wow. He really does come across as some kind of action movie hero.”

“Hmm. I’ve been thinking, what if Tony Stark was playing some kind of long con in order to break Rogers out of that facility?” She threw him a sideways look. “Including going after you like he did.”

“Yeah, the thought had crossed my mind too; what if Stark was not just some eccentric nutjob on a government payroll, but actually a good guy?” His words were something of an understatement, since he’d spent whole evenings thinking back on his conflict with the man and re-evaluating almost every one of his actions.

“And?”

“And I think that it might actually be the case. But I still don’t think I can forgive him for what he did to us. There must’ve been some other way, and even then I’m sure that there’s still more to his plans than meets the eye…”

Peter suddenly felt Felicia’s hand on his and glanced down to see that he’d reached for the large circular scar on his chest while talking without even realizing it. He grimaced and let go of the old injury, interlocking his fingers with hers.

“Yeah,” Felicia said, leaning in even closer. “I can’t forgive the fucker either. Doesn’t matter if he had secret ulterior motives or whatever – he went at you with the intent to kill, and that’s all that mattered at the time.”

He smiled, as ever thankful that she was there for him. Thinking back on Stark’s words during their chaotic fight, a lot of it didn’t make much sense. He could recall that the man had repeatedly tried to make him surrender his will to the symbiote, as had occurred during his fight with the mercenaries at ESU. Had that been for some hidden reason relating to the organic suit, or had that just been an attempt to make the ‘distraction’ from Rogers’ rescue even more spectacular, as had been the case when he’d set off explosives around the building?

Ultimately, Peter’s conclusion had been that there was little point in pondering matters to which no definite answers could be found unless he asked Stark himself – and he sincerely hoped with all his heart that he’d never meet the man ever again.

“So,” Felicia piped up, breaking the comfortable silence that had settled over the rooftop. “How about that hot date you promised me?”

“Heh.” He squeezed her hand and turned to face her. “You mean the hot superhero date?”

“Mhm.”

“Well, I’ve been brainstorming it. How does a trip through Times Square using Spider-Man’s infamous webs sound, followed by a bottle of champagne atop the Empire State Building?”

“You forgot sweet lovemaking under the stars.”

“Ah, of course.” He hid his blush with a nonchalant smirk. “How could I be so absent-minded?”

“It’s alright, good sir. Yeah, we could do all that. Ooor…” She nodded down towards the street a couple of blocks down, where several loud voices were making their way up to them. “…we could just check out what’s going on over there, maybe kick some ass, then go home to watch the new episode of Lost?”

“Now who’s forgetting about the sweet lovemaking?”

“You’re right, how absent-minded of me.” Felicia grinned. “Ready to go kick some ass?”

Even before the couple made it down to the source of the voices – a narrow alleyway right next to a closed diner – Peter was able to get a pretty good idea of what the source of the disturbances was due to the words that rang out the loudest: ‘freak’, ‘criminal’ and, of course, ‘mutant’. He swung onto a rooftop directly overlooking the alleyway and surveyed the scene while waiting for Felicia, who had insisted on making her own way down from their meeting point with the new grappling hook she gained so much enjoyment from using.

There were five men gathered in a semi-circle around what must have been the entrance to the diner’s kitchen, and crouching down in their midst and shielding his head with his arms was a pale, shaggy-haired man. The five thugs seemed to alternate between joking amongst each other and snapping out at the cowering individual like startled dogs.

_‘Bigots. Figures.’_

Peter had seen far too many such scenes in the weeks and months since attendance to the Xavier Institute had been made mandatory for all mutants. Public opinion had already swayed heavily against the new species following the Brooklyn Abomination’s rampage, but SHIELD’s admission that Bruce Banner had been a mutant and the new laws enacted to avert any similar disasters in the future had essentially vindicated anyone with more extreme opinions on the matter. He often wondered if the government released that information on purpose and fully aware of the consequences – violence against mutants had spiked so quickly that many of them who might have still had misgivings about the Xavier Institute quickly rushed to their offices for succour. _‘In light of all these news about Steve Rogers I’m definitely inclined to believe that that was the case. SHIELD was one thing, but this country really is rotten to the core, just like he says.’_

“Oh hell.” Felicia landed next to him and looked down at the scene with evident distaste. “Mutant-haters. I should’ve known.”

“Kind of makes you miss the days of good old-fashioned thieves and drug peddlers, doesn’t it?”

“I wouldn’t know.” She was checking all the corners for potential risks as she folded up the rope attached to her hook. “Have you had run-ins with guys like these before?”

“A couple of times.” He grimaced at the memory. “They’re usually drunk and rowdy, unlikely to listen to reason. Especially since they assume we’re mutants too…”

“Well, they’re in my case.” She put on her balaclava and pulled up her hoodie, tying it up by the front under her chin so that it couldn’t be pulled off. There was a fierce light in her eyes as she finally turned to look directly at him. “Let’s teach these assholes a lesson they won’t soon forget.”

Peter returned her gaze and nodded firmly, summoning up his mask. “How do you wanna handle this?”

Felicia seemed surprised by the question and was silent for a moment as she continued to survey the scene below them.

“If it were up to me, I’d just get down there and beat the shit out of those thugs before they knew what hit them. But…” She took a deep breath. “I guess we should at least make an effort with these idiots. You go down there first to talk with them and I’ll be on stand-by to save the day when it all goes to hell.”

“Sounds like a plan to me.” He gave her a thumbs-up. “See you on the other side, partner.”

Before she could reply Peter had already leapt off the building and towards the alleyway. It was a short jump and he managed to land at a good distance behind the bigots without being noticed. _‘I could’ve probably webbed them all up before they even knew what hit them, but Felicia’s got a point. It’s good to see her practicing so much more restraint than she used to.’_

Clearing his throat, Peter stepped towards the group just as one of the men kicked the cowering mutant in the stomach.

“Alright folks, that’s enough of that.” He barely managed to hide the anger in his voice as all the men turned to face him. “I’m not actually sure why I’m bothering to ask, but what’s going on here?”

“Hoho,” a man wearing a green beanie jeered as they all reformed their half-ring around Peter. “If it isn’t the top mutant himself. We were just talking about you.”

“That very notion disgusts me,” Peter snapped back. “From the looks of this little scene your ‘talks’ don’t seem to extend far beyond grunts and hoots.”

“Oh, that disgusts you, Spider-Man?” A shorter man in a leather jacket stepped forward and pointed at the beaten mutant. “Look at that bastard, take a good look. More animal than human and they let him work in a kitchen right by our homes!”

Peter glanced at the pale young man on the ground and noticed the odd shape of his mouth; a second later he caught a glimpse of a long, frog-like tongue as he struggled for air.

“Looks fine to me,” he said after a moment. “A whole sight better-looking than you five, that’s for sure.”

“We caught this _thing_ , this mutant hiding away from the Xavier Institute,” the beanie-wearing man said, ignoring the comment. “He was breaking the law and putting us all at risk. We’re just doing our duty as citizens.”

“Well, to me it looks like you’re just beating on a guy in a dark alley, five to one.” He shrugged. “You must really be scared of him to depend on those odds.”

“And you don’t scare us one bit.” A muscular, bearded man took a step towards him with his fists clenched. “Lotta people tolerate you because you supposedly help around, but get in our way and we’ll drag you to the nearest Institute office like the freak you are.”

“That’s all you are, Spider-Man!” A thin man with a wispy moustache and crooked teeth called out from behind the others, as if he’d been waiting for his turn to speak. “And you’ve been avoiding the law all this time, that makes you the biggest criminal of all!”

“My, aren’t you boys quite the experts on crime?” Felicia finally descended with her grappling hook on the other side of the alley, catching the attention of all the mutant-haters. “Though I must admit, I’m something of an authority on the subject myself…”

 _‘So dramatic. Is that how I come across?’_ Peter was glad that his mask obscured the amused grin plastered across his face.

“Who the hell are you?” The bearded man glanced nervously between the two masked interlopers, as if he feared that even more might show up.

“That’s Black Cat,” a lean bald man said quietly. “I always knew Spider-Man was working with her.”

The thug with the wispy moustache spat on the floor near the cowering man, who seemed amazed by the sudden development. “Another mutant freak!”

“Very cute,” said Felicia flatly. “I wouldn’t say I work with anyone. But the truth is that burglar or hero, if we look down and see a bunch of inbred churls acting like the Middle Ages are back in fashion, well, we can’t help but swoop down to kick your asses.”

“What’s that, bitch?” The beanie-wearing man drew a switchblade from his pocket, as if on cue. “You’re gonna kick our asses?”

Peter sighed and took a step towards them.

“Honestly,” he said, “I’ve spent way longer talking with you idiots than I usually bother. Still, last warning, since I’m in a special mood today: drop the knives, leave the guy in peace, and just freakin’ go home already. You’ve probably seen what I can do on TV or online, so be smart.”

Several of the bigots exchanged glances for a second, but Peter could tell from experience that talking them down had never been a serious option in the first place; he’d just wanted to put on a bigger show for Felicia. If anything, he was surprised how long it took before the bearded fellow patted the man wearing the leather jacket on the shoulder energetically.

_‘Alright, let’s get this done quickly.’_

With a roar and an insult the two men charged at him with the seeming intention of performing some sort of double tackle, but neither of them had made it more than two steps down the alley before their yells were muffled by two webs fired in quick succession. Peter felt a brief swell of pride at how well he’d pulled off the shots as he leapt forwards and delivered one blow to each of their heads with measured restraint. The two thugs crumpled to the ground like heavy sacks, revealing the scene further down the alley behind them.

A green beanie was still flying through the air as its former wearer crashed to the filthy pavement in a heap, his switchblade clattering by his side. Felicia’s fist was still held up from the uppercut she had delivered when she took a couple of quick steps to her right, just dodging a punch from the bigot sporting a wispy moustache. Peter knew that she was relying on her powers again rather than actually trying to read their moves, but in light of the results he hardly felt entitled to criticize her. He had seen her fight common thugs during some of their past forays together and never ceased to be amazed by the ease with which she simply danced her way through whatever was thrown at her. _‘Looking at her now, I really doubt I could have won that rooftop fight we had without setting up all those traps beforehand.’_

After sidestepping yet another blow from the moustachioed man, whose eyes almost seemed to be bulging in frustration, Felicia finally ended the spectacle with a high kick to the side of his head. The man collapsed onto the bigot who’d been deprived of his beanie, and before either of them could continue their struggle to get back up she advanced towards them and delivered carefully-aimed kicks that put an end to their stubbornness. Peter winced at the sight of a tooth skittering across the floor; he barely ever had to follow up his attacks like she did to keep his enemies down since his blows were strong enough to knock a regular person out in one punch.

The last bigot standing, the lean bald man, looked nervously around the alley for a means of escape. He had hesitated to press the attack against Felicia after seeing the beanie-wearing man go down within seconds and it seemed like, at long last, fear had gotten the better of his idiocy and bravado. He turned towards Peter with the seeming intent to surrender, his hands shaking slightly as he raised them disarmingly, when the side of Felicia’s military-issue boot slammed into his temple from behind to, for once, knock him out in a single blow. The thug’s head was spared additional damage from the asphalt as it collided softly with a sagging garbage bag by the kitchen door.

Peter raised an eyebrow and looked directly at Felicia in silence. Seemingly well-aware of what he was thinking, his girlfriend shrugged nonchalantly and made her way towards him. He grimaced slightly under his mask, but still said nothing. He knew how strongly the white-haired girl felt about the rising bigotry against mutants, and that in a combat situation like this those feelings translated into particular acts of violence. _‘We’ve already said all that needs to be said on the matter, so the rest is up to her. If anything, though, I’d say she’s learned a bit of restraint…’_

Together, the couple made their way over to the battered mutant sitting on the ground whose wide eyes darted in disbelief from one unconscious thug to another.

“Hey,” Peter said, holding out a hand. “You okay?”

The mutant almost jumped in surprise and looked at his hand with an expression that could only be described as wonder. Nodding, the young man finally took his hand and let himself be helped back onto his feet.

“That was…” The mutant’s voice was vaguely garbled as he spoke up for the first time, like he was talking through a mouth full of water. “You don’t know how long I’ve been dreaming for something like this to happen.”

“Did they hurt you?” Felicia leaned down to pick up a fallen employee card as she spoke. “Um… Mortimer?”

“Mortimer Toynbee, that’s me. No, not really. Just a couple bruises. Those guys had been hounding me for days now, pushing me about. Never thought they’d go this far…” Mortimer sighed deeply as he took the offered card, clearly trying to get a grip on the adrenaline that had been coursing through him before. “I just have to say – thank you. Thank you both. You saved me.”

Peter nodded, glancing briefly at the switchblade on the ground. “People like that are popping up more and more in the city. You need to be careful.”

“You don’t have to tell me twice.” The mutant smiled sadly as he glanced down at his torn shirt. “I’m getting the hell out of town tonight. If anything, I guess I should be grateful that they decided to beat on me rather than call the Institute…”

“Don’t be so sure,” Felicia said. “I’ve seen my share of mindless bigots in the last few months. Things can get nasty real quick, and we can’t always be around to help out.”

“Well, what I hear about the Savage Land is a lot worse than any beating… but you’re right. That guy had a knife…” He sighed. “I don’t even know how they found out. I’ve just been keeping my distance, cooking. Damn.”

“Usually I’d call the cops to clean up here…” Peter shook his head. “Thing is, they’ll be quick to blab about a runaway mutant. I’m not really suited to give you life advice, buddy, but sticking around will definitely get you sent away, victim or no.”

“I hear you, Spider-Man. What a shitty situation…” Mortimer sighed again, then shrugged. “What fucking times.”

Felicia glanced about as she heard a faraway police siren. “Do you have somewhere you can go?”

“I… I’ve got an idea or two.” He suddenly brightened up as he looked up to meet Peter’s gaze. “Wait, you’re not with… with the Brotherhood, are you?”

“What? You mean the Brotherhood of Mutants?” Peter glanced at Felicia and shook his head. “No. Why?”

The mutant glanced around the alley, as if making sure none of the unconscious thugs had suddenly gotten back up.

“I’ve got a friend in the Brotherhood, and he hinted they might be coming to the States – to New York, even. I’ll see if I can get in touch with him and join them.” Mortimer shrugged. “Seems like the safest place for a mutant to be right now, don’t you think?”

“Honestly, it does.” Felicia reassured him. “Things can’t go on like this, and the Brotherhood is just the change we need.”

“Yeah, that’s right.” He nodded, clearly gladdened by her words. “Maybe… maybe you two should come with me? I mean, we’re all mutants.”

Peter and Felicia looked at each other, well-aware of the weight of the question; it presented a course of action that they had already spent a great deal of time discussing.

Felicia was the first to speak. “Mortimer, I think-”

“No, no, I get it.” The mutant held up his hands with a smile as he interrupted her. “You guys have secret identities, you blend in with the humans, all that stuff. But listen, even if you’re heroes to them… uhm…” He glanced at Felicia upon realizing his faux pas. “What I mean to say is, things aren’t going to get better. The people of this city might turn against you at any moment, just like tonight.”

“Well,” Peter looked at the thug whose head was pressed into a garbage bag, “you’re not wrong.” _‘This guy sure is talkative all of a sudden.’_

“Right? But you guys are my heroes after tonight so… I wanna help.” He took one last glance around the alleyway and lowered his voice slightly. “If you two want to meet the Brotherhood or maybe even get to Genosha, then talk to Quentin Beck.”

“Quentin Beck?” Felicia was unable to hide the surprise in her voice as she repeated the name. “From Mysterio?”

“Shh!” The pale man looked around once more before nodding. “Yeah, that’s the one. He knows people in the Brotherhood, he got my friend in touch with them.”

“Hah.” Felicia looked directly at Peter and he could see the mirth in her blue eyes. “Can you believe this?”

“Honestly?” He grinned under his mask. “This seems totally in line with Mysterio.”

“I’m not kidding around,” the mutant said, picking up on their tone. “Visit his home after work hours if you’re interested. I hear he never answers the front door, but there’s a back entrance through the building behind it.”

“Well… thank you, Mortimer.” Peter patted him on the shoulder. “Looks like you might be helping us out about as much as we helped you.”

“I doubt that. I’ll owe you guys forever.”

“Don’t sweat it.” Felicia looked about for the line of her grappling hook. “Just try to get somewhere safe quickly, alright?”

“Of course. I will.” Mortimer smiled widely, baring yellow teeth at the couple. “Spider-Man and Black Cat… I can’t believe what tripe the papers say about you two. You’re truly heroes.”

Peter suppressed a snort. “Well, they’ll definitely have something to say tomorrow after these clowns wake up and talk to someone. For now though, it’s time for us to scram. Good luck, Mortimer.”

“Yeah,” Felicia added, “stick one to the Institute by making sure they don’t catch you!”

The pale man nodded, grinning as he stood amidst all the unconscious bigots and watched both his rescuers make their way back towards the rooftops above.

“Alright.” Peter glanced at Felicia, who had been keeping pace with him as they’d made their way across the neighbourhood’s buildings by jumping from roof to roof so as to avoid drawing attention. “That should be far enough.”

The cat burglar nodded and undid her hoodie’s laces as she came to a halt, removing the headwear and her balaclava in a few practiced motions.

“Can you believe it’s been less than a half hour since we started your patrol?” She flashed him a wry smile. “Are your nights usually this busy?”

“Busier, actually.” He withdrew his mask and put a finger to his chin. “Let’s see, the first couple of hours are usually spent helping old ladies across the street, then come the cats in the trees...”

“Ah.” She walked over to him and he noticed how tousled her white hair was from the fight. “You might have to rearrange your cat-themed priorities now, you know?”

“Does that mean you wanna keep doing this with me?”

“Are you kidding me?” Felicia held out her arms and grinned at him fiercely. “I just got to beat up a bunch of mutant-haters into next week while helping out one of my kind, and it’s not even dinnertime yet! Hell yeah I wanna keep this up.”

Peter smiled, gladdened by her words. He could still remember how hesitant she had initially been to go on patrols with him, fearing that if someone saw them together it would hurt his reputation as a hero; her current attitude clearly showed that she was past those doubts. _‘What we heard tonight should have put her worries to rest: we’re usually seen as heroes by the people we help, and as scum by those we beat up. Anything in between really doesn’t matter for squat.’_

“Feels better than robbing high rises, huh?”

“Ah, well now.” Felicia sat down on a wooden bench placed by the door to the rooftop. “Apples and oranges, you know?”

“Oh, I’ll convince you yet…” He sat down on the bench next to her and held her hand.

For a moment the couple simply listened to the night-time sounds of the city, the stars above practically invisible for all the lights shining across the vast metropolis.

“So,” Felicia finally spoke up. “Given any thoughts to what that guy said?”

“I have.”

“And?”

Peter took a deep breath.

“We already talked about this at the apartment, right? Genosha sounds nice and all, but…”

“Yeah, yeah. Your responsibilities, my livelihood, our powers don’t stick out, I remember.” She looked directly at him. “But I can tell… his words really got you thinking.”

_‘Damn. She really knows me so damn well.’_

“You’re right.” Peter smiled thinly. “That whole Quentin Beck thing really took me by surprise.”

“It’s about Scott Summers, right?”

“Right again.” Peter raised an eyebrow. “You sure your superpower isn’t actually mindreading?”

“Nah.” She shuffled closer to him with a cheesy smile. “Let’s just say you don’t need a credit card to ride this train.”

Peter grinned at the reference. “Really? The power of love?”

“You said it, not me.”

“Hah. Well, you’re right.” He looked up at the featureless night sky. “I can’t help but wonder if Beck might know something about what happened to Scott and Kitty. Whether they’re somewhere safe now or… I dunno.”

Peter could still recall his disbelief over how candidly the university faculty had allowed two of its students to simply be carted off to some unknown location, be it by the government or otherwise. After a week of hearing nothing about his friends Peter had tried contacting their parents, only to be met with reassurances that confinement at the Xavier Institute was not only for the benefit of everyone involved, but would only last for three to four months at the longest. He had been able to tell by their voices that they were trying to convince him of those words almost as desperately as they were trying to convince themselves.

In the weeks since, Peter had heard nothing whatsoever from the couple due to the strict ban on communications with ‘patients’ at the Institute’s main facility, the location of which was a complete mystery ‘for the safety of those being treated within’.

“I can’t just sit around and hope that things work out,” he said. “Every day thinking ‘Maybe today’s the day’. Just look at what we saw down in that alley – things are getting worse by the minute, not better.”

Felicia nodded understandingly. “So… wanna go talk to Beck?”

“Yeah. As soon as classes are done tomorrow.” Peter looked into her blue eyes and smiled. “You wanna come with?”

“Are you kidding me? Do I want to go meet the undisputed king of conspiracy theories and secret champion to the mutant cause?”

“Sorry, dumb question.”

“Don’t sweat it.” Felicia squeezed his hand and winked. “Sounds like we’ve got something big planned for the day. How about we make a couple of rounds around the area and call it an early night?”

“Oh? And just give up on our romantic date plans?”

“Not _all_ of them,” she purred.

“And just like that all my arguments lie in tatters, utterly defeated.” Peter shook his head lightly and grinned. “Lead the way, Ms. Hardy.”


	3. Chapter 3

The following day transpired for Peter and Felicia as countless others had in the last three months. Waking up in a naked mess of scattered sheets and haphazardly-strewn clothes, the couple had begun their morning routines with a due diligence that belied the messy state of their bedroom. Taking turns to use the shower while the other cleaned up and set up the table for breakfast felt like something akin to a ritual that helped them wake up properly, if slowly – they had quickly discovered that attempts to speed up the process by showering together only resulted in their routine, if not even their whole plan for the day, being wholly disrupted beyond repair.

They chatted heartily while eating their breakfast of toasted waffles with syrup and only paid vague attention to the online newscast being streamed on Felicia’s laptop, at least until the recent strings of brutal killings now attributed to a serial killer were brought up again. While there had been no new victims, seven of which had already been discovered over the past month, the police was giving a report on the on-going investigation and the FBI’s continued cooperation in the case. The news only slightly dampened their spirits – the couple had already spent long nights scouring the streets in search of the killer before finally conceding that finding one man in a city like New York with no real clues to go on was far beyond their capabilities and resources.

After breakfast, they both went their separate ways. While Peter headed across town to reach ESU in time for morning lectures, his girlfriend only had to go a short distance to the gym where she worked as a trainer. Although Felicia had oftentimes said that she enjoyed her job, her relatively poor social skills meant that she had to make an active effort to keep busy so as not to fall into lethargic boredom. Peter, on the other hand, could at least look forward to seeing MJ and the few other acquaintances with whom he spent time studying or simply hanging around between classes, although he did often make the trip back to Queens to eat lunch with his girlfriend.

Due to his more flexible timetable Peter was able to get in a few hours of uneventful afternoon patrolling before he met up with Felicia on a rooftop adjacent to her workplace. They both felt particularly vigorous as they made their way towards Hell’s Kitchen, where Quentin Beck’s apartment was located according to his website.

“Number eighty-two. That’s the one.” Peter took a step back from the edge of the adjacent rooftop. “Ready to meet your idol?”

“Honestly, I’m kind of braced for disappointment.” Felicia peeked over the edge as she looked for a good point of descent down to the alleyway. “He’ll probably be a pretty normal-looking guy, whereas anything short of a long scrabbly beard and crazy eyes will be a let-down.”

“Honestly, your expectations terrify me. I’ll be glad to be in costume if that’s what we end up seeing.”

The couple had spent some time discussing whether they should show up as Spider-Man and Black Cat or Peter Parker and Felicia Hardy, eventually settling on the former on the off-chance that Mortimer hadn’t been exaggerating about the man and his house being watched by government stooges or members of the Brotherhood. Once she had made him aware of an inconspicuous route they could follow through the side alleys, Peter and Felicia descended down to ground level. As was so often the case, he tried his best to simply ignore the smell of spoiled milk and other goods that resulted from long-overdue garbage disposal.

After zigzagging past piles of trash bags and cardboard boxes they finally reached a seemingly run-down apartment entrance hidden far from the main road, with the half-broken door just barely seeming to hold onto its hinges. Most of the buttons on the buzzer list were missing, one notable exception being one set next to a nametag reading only ‘Mystery’.

“Okay,” Peter said after trying to peek into the dark corridor beyond the broken door. “This is reaching some seriously high levels of creepy. Like, ‘bloody ice cream truck’ levels.”

“Come on,” she teased him. “Don’t you like a little mystery? Maybe if we hit that buzzer a dozen clowns will crawl out of the gutter to pull rabbits out of their hats and do a little clown dance?”

“Are you trying to give me nightmares in the middle of the day?” He shivered. “Ugh, I feel weird all over now. I think it’s not just my skin crawling, but the suit too.”

“I’m sure the suit is as scared of killer clowns as you are. Come on.”

“Wait, now they’re killer clowns?”

Felicia didn’t reply as she ascended the short stairwell and pressed the ‘Mystery’ button. A tiny, irrational part of Peter’s mind almost made him glance towards the gutter as several seconds passed by in absolute silence. There was no indication whatsoever that the buzzer had actually worked, nor that anyone inside was coming out to greet them.

“Alright, well…” Felicia turned and shrugged exaggeratedly. “Is this the part where we split up to look for clues?”

Peter snorted and followed her as she pushed the creaky door aside to step into the complex.

While his first reaction upon stepping inside was to think of the entrance to Felicia’s old apartment building – decrepit and unkempt as it looked with discarded bicycles and newspapers dotting the floor – Peter quickly realized that this one bore the neglected appearance that resulted from utter abandonment rather than simple neglect.

Felicia seemed to have come to the same conclusion as she glanced around a corner to look down a dark corridor. “I don’t think anyone’s actually lived here for a long time.”

“Yeah. This is like a showcase of what a creepy derelict building should look like. Almost as if someone set it up like that on purpose.” He walked past her to look down the hallway. “That door at the end should be the back entrance Mortimer mentioned, right?”

“Should be.” She glanced at him, her cat hoodie completely at odds with the decrepit setting. “Ready?”

“Yeah. Just look out for syringes or loose bricks…”

“…or bear traps. Got it.”

The couple carefully made their way down the messy corridor, glancing down at the floor warily despite their joking attitude and almost wincing with every creaky step they took. They were at the door before long, a sturdy-looking one with a peephole that stood at odds with the rest of the apartment.

Just as Peter raised a hand to knock on the door, Felicia suddenly turned her head to look over her shoulder. He followed her gaze, but could see nothing but the dingy corridor and apartment entrance they had left behind.

“What is it?”

“Nothing… I think. I hope.” She shook her head. “Aah, this place is actually getting to me after all. Let’s just do this.”

Peter nodded and knocked firmly on the door.

The response came so quickly that they both jumped in surprise.

“Who is it?” A man’s voice, slightly high-pitched, called out from practically right behind the door. “What do you want?”

Peter looked at Felicia uncertainly for a brief moment before clearing his throat and leaning towards the peephole.

“Um, is this Mr. Quentin Beck?”

“Yes, yes. And you are?”

“This is Spider-Man and Black Cat.” Peter began to wonder if the peephole was broken or if the man looking through it simply couldn’t believe his eyes. “We have questions about a fellow mutant who’s disappeared?”

“Hah! Spider-Man and Black Cat, good one! Haha!” The man’s forced laughter almost echoed through the dark hallway. “And who told you to just show up at my back door like this asking about mutants, hm?”

“Um...” Peter glanced back at Felicia, who seemed to be at an utter loss for words as she looked back at him. “Mortimer Toynbee? He mentioned you might be able to help us.”

There was a brief moment of silence before the man spoke again.

“Well, now. I guess I’ll hear you out then, ‘Spider-Man’. Step back a little.”

The couple complied and a second later the heavy door swung open, revealing what could only have been Quentin Beck, founder and Chief Editor of Mysterio.

The man standing at the threshold seemed to be around his thirties, though his messy brown hair and unkempt beard made it somewhat difficult to tell. In contrast, his chequered shirt and jeans were pristine, though so tight that they accentuated how thin he was. The bags under his eyes were particularly noticeable as he looked the couple over suspiciously, before snorting and grinning widely.

“I’ll be damned,” he said, “you kids actually dressed up like Spider-Man and Black Cat to meet me?”

Peter glanced once more at Felicia, seeing in her eyes that the man’s ridiculous appearance had not quite disappointed her impression of what Quentin Beck should look like. He had considered on his way to Hell’s Kitchen that the man might not take them at face value if they showed up as their superhero alter egos, and if anything Beck’s seemed like a more normal reaction than believing that they were the real deal. _‘I did read that they were selling Spider-Man and Black Cat merchandise for parties and whatnot in the last few months. Should’ve seen it coming, after Iron Man monetized his image so much.’_ He briefly considered proving his identity to the man by firing a web at the ceiling, but took into account how wary he had been to even open the door and opted not to accidentally frighten him.

“Yeah, well,” he looked at his girlfriend. “Can’t be too careful, you know? Since anyone could be watching…”

“Right, yeah!” Felicia caught on immediately. “The Man’s got eyes everywhere. We’re worried about our friends, but we gotta watch out for ourselves too.”

“Hmm.” Beck didn’t seem overly convinced, but after a moment simply shrugged. “I get you. This city isn’t safe for mutants, though this house certainly is. I’ve got cameras all over, and I even own the whole apartment. So you don’t have to worry about being seen in here.”

“Ah, well.” Peter glanced up and, for the first time, spotted the vague glint of a camera well-hidden in the murk above the doorframe. “If it’s all the same to you, Mr. Beck…”

“I wouldn’t normally agree to that. But you did know Mortimer’s name, so…” He stepped aside. “Come on in. Make yourselves at home.”

The duo stepped into the dimly-lit apartment, and Peter couldn’t help but marvel at how comically-well its contents fit their owner’s public image. Posters from The X-Files dominated an entire wall next to shuttered windows, while another was lined with anti-government or conspiratorial slogans. A plastic bust of Lenin adorned a circular table in the middle of the living room next to an ashtray sporting a half-smoked joint, and a desk near the entrance to the kitchen even contained an old-fashioned typewriter which appeared to see regular use judging by the countless crumpled pages discarded all around it.

“Oh man,” Felicia whispered, her eyes wide as she looked around. “Haha, this is too great.”

“Can I get you anything to drink?” Beck didn’t seem to have heard her as he locked the door behind them.

“No, we’re good, right?” Peter had walked over to a wall and was scrutinizing a framed issue of Mysterio which reported on Spider-Man’s fight against the Brooklyn Abomination.

“Yeah, yeah.” Felicia tore her gaze from a ‘The Truth is Out There’ poster to look directly at the man. “Can I just say, Mr. Beck, that I’m a huge fan of Mysterio. It’s the only paper in this city worth a damn.”

“Oh. Thank you.” For the first time since he’d laid eyes on them, Beck seemed to let down his guard somewhat. “Always glad to hear praise for the good fight.”

“You’re… really serious about all this, aren’t you?”

“Of course I am.” Beck indicated at the red chairs by the round table and took a seat after quickly hiding the ashtray under an old magazine. “This government is rotten to the core and teeming to the brim with dark secrets, as the whole debacle with Rogers has finally shown the entire world. It’s my responsibility to bring the truth out to the light, and if even just a handful of people believe me then I’ve done my job.”

“Right.” Felicia seemed to scrutinize the crumbs on the proffered chair for a moment before taking a seat. “It’s just that… not to be rude or anything, but some of your past articles were a bit, well…” She held out her hands as if struggling to find the right words. “Like the one about human experiments on the Triskelion?”

“Ah.” Beck, now seemingly at ease, took a sip from a can of soda he’d taken from the kitchen and smiled. “One of my ‘tracers’.”

“Pardon?”

“I’m thinking of writing an editorial on this one day, since you’re not the first to ask.” He leaned forward as Peter took a seat by Felicia. “You know how machine guns are fired in the dark? You get bright bullets called tracers that help you better see where you’re shooting.” There was a spark in his eyes as he spoke animatedly, his recent suspicion already appearing to have been entirely discarded. “Well, I sometimes take some of the more… unlikely reports that I receive and mix them in with the factual ones. That way, I get to shoot around in the dark for the truth, the government doesn’t take me seriously enough to shut me down, and more often than not I end up hitting my mark.”

“Right…” Felicia didn’t seem to have quite understood his reasoning as she leaned forward in her chair. “Don’t you fear that might drive away some readers? Make them, well, not take you seriously?”

“You’re here, aren’t you? If I can get through to some, that’s enough for me.” He smiled sagely as he put the can back down on the table. “Speaking of which, let’s discuss what brought you here.”

“Right.” Peter had not wanted to interfere with Felicia’s questioning, and quickly spoke up. “I’m a student at Empire State University, and three months ago two of my friends were carted off to the Xavier Institute. I haven’t heard anything about them since.”

“Hm. And you two, aren’t you worried that they’ll find you as well?”

Peter shook his head, not wanting to change the subject. “No, we blend in well since our powers don’t really stand out. It’s my friends I’m worried about.”

“So you say now. But if you know our mutual friend Mortimer, then you’re aware that the risk of detection is always there.” Beck shrugged and reached once more for his drink. “That’s ultimately your choice, though. So, what are your friends’ names?”

“Scott Summers and Kitty Pryde. We need to know if they’re still being held at the Institute.”

Although it was subtle, Peter noticed Beck’s hand briefly freezing as he reached for his can of soda. He acted indifferent as he emptied its contents in one long swig, but there was now without a doubt something different in the way he looked at him.

“Hmm.” The man glanced up towards his immobile fan lamp, the main source of light in the shuttered room. “Doesn’t ring a bell. I’ll have to look through my records.”

“Sure.”

“Just wait here a moment, I’ll be right back.” Beck stood up and went over to a small box on the table by his typewriter full of files, which he began rifling through in silence. Before Peter could say anything to Felicia, who also seemed to have picked up on the reporter’s odd reaction, the man returned to his seat while shaking his head. “Sorry to disappoint you kids, but all I’ve got in there is a report on those two you mentioned being deported from ESU to the Institute. No updates beyond that.”

“Right.” Peter nodded slowly, glad that his mask obscured his suspicion. _‘Something’s up. He reacted right after hearing the names.’_

“I’m sorry I can’t help you any further, really…”

“Are you sure?” Felicia suddenly voiced her doubts, her former easy-going tone now completely absent from her voice. “I doubt a man like you isn’t pretty well-informed about what goes on in the Savage Land.”

“What can I say?” Beck simply shrugged, and behind the casual motion Peter could see that he was trying to hide his fear. “You must have gotten the wrong impression about me. This whole ‘helping mutants’ thing is only a pastime thing, nothing serious.”

“What? A ‘pastime thing’? That’s not the impression we got from talking with Mortimer.”

“Well, you know how it is.” Beck suddenly clapped his hands together and stood up. “Now, if you’ll forgive me, I really need to get back to work. Sorry I couldn’t be of more help, kids.”

“Mr. Beck, please.” Peter stood up alongside his girlfriend and held up his hands to put the man at ease. “I think you might have gotten the wrong idea…”

“Whatever could you mean, son?” Beck was clearly terrible at hiding his misgivings as he made his way towards the door. “It’s just that I have a tight schedule and there’s really nothing I can do for you. Now, please…”

Peter and Felicia exchanged glances that affirmed both their doubts as they slowly walked towards the exit. _‘Looks like Beck is definitely scared of something. Does he think we’re with the government? It might be worth our while to come back here for a good look when the man’s not around, but it doesn’t look like there’s anything more we can do right now.’_

“I hope you two manage to stay under the Institute’s radar, though I’ve got a good feeling about you.” He stood aside from the door as he held it open for them. “By the way, I just wanna say that your costumes are really, really great…”

“That, Quentin, is because they’re the real deal.”

Peter had noticed a presence a second before the man who’d spoken appeared at the kitchen doorway, but his sudden words still made him jump slightly alongside Felicia. Beck seemed aghast to see him and almost slammed the door shut, only thinking better of it in the last possible second.

“O-Oh! Uncle!” The reporter’s bearded smile was so forced and troubled that it almost hurt to look at. “My, my oh my! I told you I had guests to entertain, didn’t I?”

Beck’s ‘uncle’ could barely have looked more distinct from him. He was tall enough that his short ash-grey hair almost touched the top of the kitchen’s doorframe as he looked at them with piercing blue eyes. He stood regally, wearing an elegant shirt and brown tweed jacket with matching pants.

“My name,” he said with a slight Scandinavian accent, completely ignoring his supposed nephew as he looked at Peter and Felicia, “is Erik Lehnsherr. I am otherwise known as Magneto, of the Brotherhood of Mutants.”

“Uncle!” This time, Beck did shut the door with some force as he moved to stand between the couple and the kitchen with an apologetic smile. “I’m sorry, he gets like this sometimes…”

“Quentin, enough. You’re embarrassing yourself.” The man who’d introduced himself as Lehnsherr stepped confidently into the living room. “They’re not with the Institute. Emma’s confirmed it.”

“O-Oh. Okay.” The simple statement seemed to calm Beck considerably, though he suddenly furrowed his brows. “Wait, you said…”

“...they’re the real deal, yes.” He held out a hand towards Peter. “It’s an honour to meet you in person, Spider-Man.”

Peter shook the proffered hand after a second of hesitation, trying his best to ignore the bewildered stare that Beck was shooting at him.

“And you too, Black Cat,” Lehnsherr said, shaking her hand. “You two might just be two of the most famous mutants in our day.”

“Right. Mr. Lehnsherr…” Peter had been hesitant to buy into the situation, what with everything he’d witnessed in the past few minutes having been so utterly ridiculous, but there was something about the man’s aura, not to mention his eyes, that made it hard to doubt his claims of being one of the most infamous men on the planet. “I suspected that there was something more to Mortimer’s words than just mere guesswork.”

“Our mutual friend was rather well-informed of the Brotherhood’s arrival, and it was through him that we learned of your actions last night. Your past actions made me hopeful of your beliefs, but his direct account of your assistance last night and your serendipitous appearance here today has dispelled any doubts I may still have harboured.” He looked at each of them in turn. “I see the two of you now and know that I can truly trust you, so let me ask right away: would you both do me the honour of hearing out my plans to end this rising shadow that has been threatening all of mutantkind?”

When Felicia spoke up, for the first time since Lehnsherr had appeared, it was almost like she’d been waiting for him to say those words.

“Yes. If you’re who you say you are…” She glanced sideways at Peter, who was still measuring up Lehnsherr.

 _‘Why am I so inclined to believe that this guy really is Magneto? There are no pictures of the man, this could just be some nutjob trying to rope us into the most embarrassing conspiracy theory ever. But literally everything about him somehow indicates that he’s telling the truth.’_ He glanced at Beck, who was still staring agog at him, and then at Felicia. _‘Ah, fuck it.’_

“Alright, Mr. Lehnsherr,” he said. “I’ll hear you out.”

The older man smiled benevolently and bowed his head slightly before turning back towards the kitchen. “Thank you. Please, if you’ll follow me…”

The couple exchanged a silent glance as Magneto disappeared beyond the doorframe, and just from her eyes Peter could tell that all the anxiety and rage that had been building up over the last few weeks was suddenly coalescing into this one chance encounter. _‘Well, if she’s in then so am I.’_ He nodded for her to go on ahead.

“Oh, um, hey. Spider-Man?” Peter had suspected that Beck had something to say to him but had hoped that he could simply walk by the man quietly. “Listen. About before, I… uh…”

“It’s cool. Don’t worry about it.” Keeping his response curt, he patted the reporter on the shoulder and quickly made his way into the kitchen before he could reply.

In light of Magneto’s sudden appearance out of the blue in the heart of New York, the sight of a fridge being pushed aside to reveal a hidden stairwell leading into a secret basement hardly caught him by surprise.

“I know this might seem suspicious to you,” said Lehnsherr, who barely seemed tired from having moved the heavy-looking fridge. “I know I would certainly be wary. But I’m afraid we have had to resort to methods like these so as to remain hidden right within the lion’s den. As ever, the choice to go on is entirely yours.”

Peter had to admit that the dimly-lit passageway seemed rather narrow and creepy, but the sheer resolve in Felicia’s eyes quickly convinced him to let go of his doubts.

The stairwell wasn’t particularly long, but it still gave Peter some time to think things through more clearly. _‘We’re really doing it, walking right into the secret underground base or whatever of the Brotherhood of Mutants. Can’t say I saw any of this coming yesterday. I’m already used to being on the wrong side of the law – things have been like that since this all began, really. But this is on a whole other level.’_ He sighed, shaking his head. _‘There’s really not much to go on – the government calls these guys terrorists and the papers claim they’re fighting for mutant rights. What exactly are we getting roped into here?’_

When Peter finally made it to the dimly-lit attic he was greeted by more or less the same guerrilla image he had always pictured of the Brotherhood. A large wooden table dominated the centre of the room, at which sat only a young woman roughly his age with short blonde hair. Leaning against the back wall behind her was a similarly-young man sporting messy shoulder-length hair over what seemed to be blue skin, and next to him stood a tall, stoic-looking man with a crew-cut who stared down the new arrivals with his arms crossed over his chest.

“Holy shit!” Peter had been about to make some wry comment about the ragtag band before them when Felicia suddenly grabbed his arm tightly and whispered urgently. “Look!”

Peter followed her gaze and his jaw almost dropped at the sight of the man who was almost completely obscured beneath the shadows of the left wall.

Steve Rogers, sporting the newly-infamous black uniform of the Winter Soldier, sat inconspicuously on a wooden crate as he silently scrutinized them. The living relic of American history looked just like he had in the blurry colourless photos that had lined their history books, from the well-shaven lightly-chiselled jaw to his short blonde hair. As he stared in amazement at the man, Peter noticed for the first time that a small dark-red star decorated both shoulders of his outfit, which seemed to be some sort of military-grade light armour.

 _‘Okay. This really is on a whole other level.’_ If there had even been a shadow of a doubt left in his mind that he was really dealing with the most talked-about terrorist group in the world it was now completely dispelled.

Lehnsherr swept his arms about the room. “Welcome, friends, to the Brotherhood of Mutants.”

Glancing over his shoulder, Peter noticed that while the fridge had replaced the secret door, the only obstacle between them and a swift exit was Beck, who had sat down behind them on the last few steps. He had somehow not anticipated just how quickly they might suddenly find themselves in the presence of some extremely dangerous individuals, and began weighing all his options carefully. _‘We could probably be out of here in just a few leaps…’_

“Spider-Man and Black Cat are pretty freaked out, boss,” the young blonde woman said in a casual tone. “Might want to put them at ease a little.”

“Ah. Of course.” Lehnsherr stepped away from them to lean against the right wall. “I’m sure this is all quite overwhelming for you both, but I give you my word of honour that no harm will befall you regardless of what you may choose to do.”

“Those are some mighty big words, Magneto.” Rogers stood up slowly and walked over to the table, his head almost touching against the lamp hanging from the middle of the ceiling. “You bring two complete strangers into the meeting, say they can do as they please, and expect us to just trust them unconditionally?”

“I told you I vetted them,” the blonde girl said with some disdain as she began unwrapping a stick of chewing gum.

“I was talking to Magneto. And you know how much I ‘value’ your powers, missy.”

“Yeah? Well, I can also tell you how uncomfortable your little tirade is making them feel, hero.”

Rogers suddenly looked over towards the couple with what could only be described as an abashed expression. He lowered his gaze for a moment and leaned on the table.

“Magneto,” he said in a calmer tone, “the vetting process used to take weeks. With all due respect, you’ve known these two for minutes at best, and one of them is a _criminal_ …”

“Steve.” Lehnsherr’s voice was kindly yet firm, like that of an older and wiser relative. “We arrived here just a few days ago and are in the process of planning the most historic mission of our time when we are visited by none other than the first mutant in the world to go public alongside the most infamous burglar in the city, both declaring an intent to liberate a pair of fellow mutants. As a man of faith, do you truly believe that this could be anything short of fate?”

“You know my faith isn’t exactly what it used to be. Are you truly willing to risk everything and trust in them just because you see it as fate?”

“Not just that, no; their actions also speak for them. You remember what Mortimer told us.”

Rogers nodded slowly and sat down by the table. “Alright. Let’s have it your way.”

Lehnsherr looked about at the other occupants of the room. “Any other objections to our guests’ presence today?”

The blonde girl shrugged as she blew a pink bubble of gum. “Told you I already vetted them.”

The blue-skinned youth took a step forward, revealing a thin tail above his digitigrade legs. “If Emma says they’re clear, then that’s good enough for me,” he said in a thick German accent.

Next to the blue-skinned mutant, the large man resembling a bodybuilder simply shrugged his sizable shoulders.

“Right, then. There don’t seem to be any objections here.” Lehnsherr turned towards the couple. “And what about you?”

When Peter spoke up for the first time since entering the basement he was surprised by how steady his voice was, not betraying the overwhelming confusion and caution he was feeling. “Do we really have a choice?”

“Of course you do.” Magneto seemed unperturbed by his suspicion. “The choice is always entirely yours.”

Peter looked to his side and could tell at a glance that Felicia had no intention of speaking first. _‘She’s waiting to hear my reply – are my doubts that easy to see?’_ He knew fully well what she wanted to say, and the fact that despite her wishes she was trying to respect his hesitation almost made him feel ashamed. _‘To hear out the Brotherhood or back away now? I guess I would’ve liked a bit more time to think on it, but there’s really no choice, is there? The Xavier Institute is clearly up to no good and these guys are opposed to that, so they can’t be all bad? And besides, Felicia’s always been a great judge of character…’_

“Alright, we’ll stick around. And… your secret is safe with us. I promise.”

Next to him, Felicia was nodding vigorously. “That’s right. I swear on my life, we won’t mention you to anyone else.”

Lehnsherr smiled, seeming relieved at their words. “I’m gladdened to hear that. In that case, once again: welcome to the Brotherhood of Mutants.”


	4. Chapter 4

Lehnsherr quickly went about introducing Peter and Felicia to the present members of the Brotherhood one by one, referring to them by their codenames for the sake of extra security and their own comfort.

“I believe Steve Rogers requires no formal introduction. He is now known worldwide as the Winter Soldier, but prefers using his real name in conversation.”

Rogers, evidently still somewhat unconvinced of their presence, nodded politely at the couple. Peter returned the nod awkwardly; he expected that he might have had an easier time greeting a resurrected George Washington or Abraham Lincoln than the national hero he had always aspired to be like as a child. _‘Jesus, I still can only barely wrap my head around this. I wonder what he knows about me, and what Stark did to get him out of SHIELD captivity?’_

“Next to Rogers is another member who insists on not using a codename,” Lehnsherr went on. “Emma Frost. Her power is psychokinesis.”

Peter noticed the brief change in Rogers’ eyes upon hearing those words, but the man almost immediately returned his gaze to a large plastic tube he had picked up from under the table and lain across his lap.

“Back there is Nightcrawler. His power is that of teleportation anywhere within eyeshot. Next to him is Colossus, a man who can turn his skin into steel at will.”

The young blue-skinned man smiled and waved at them genuinely, at the same time showing off both his pointed teeth and the three large digits on his hand. Peter and Felicia both awkwardly returned the wave. _‘Man, it’s like every time I look at that guy I notice something new. Seems like a nice fellow, though.’_ Peter had seen his fair share of physically-altered mutants online and was hardly fazed by his first real encounter with one.

The large man introduced as Colossus, surprisingly, suddenly dropped his stoic overview of the room to wave as well.

“Finally,” Lehnsherr said, pointing past them towards the stairwell, “you’ve already met Quentin Beck, who granted us safe haven here and made this operation possible in the first place.”

Peter looked back just in time to see Beck glancing around abashedly. He seemed poised to say something, but ultimately just shrugged and leaned back against the staircase.

“I believe you all know who Spider-Man is,” the leader of the Brotherhood said as he turned his gaze back towards the middle of the room. “He was the first mutant to appear in public, sparking our time to step into the limelight. He is also the only mutant whom human society has generally accepted without intervention from the Xavier Institute, in large part due to saving the city from the Brooklyn Abomination.”

Despite wearing his mask, Peter wondered if the room’s occupants could tell just how embarrassed the man’s lofty words were making him. Felicia certainly did as she leaned in towards him to whisper.

“No pressure, right?”

“As for this young lady,” Lehnsherr continued, as if on cue, “she is known as Black Cat and has broken into more heavily-protected high-rises in the past year than any other individual in this nation’s history. You could say she is the most skilled burglar in the world.”

Peter smiled, just barely stopping himself from returning the jibe as Felicia turned her gaze towards the floor.

“These credentials should strike you as significant in light of what we were planning here today,” the leader of the Brotherhood went on. “In fact, I believe that these two fit our plans perfectly.”

“Now hold on a moment,” Rogers said, placing the plastic tube on the table. “We already have a plan, Magneto. We’ve agreed on all the details, would you really introduce unknown elements in this late hour?”

“This late hour, you say?” Lehnsherr frowned as he walked up to the table. “I still see some doubts persist here, so let me make things very clear: events could not possibly be moving at a quicker pace. An hour is now equal to an eternity, and we no longer have the luxury of planning ahead for weeks at a time.” He softened his tone somewhat as he held out an open hand to the Winter Soldier. “Steve, I had one single moment in time to decide whether or not to invite these two to join our cause. I chose to do so. Please, back me up on this.”

Rogers took a deep breath and threw one last uncertain glance towards Peter and Felicia before, finally, nodding his head and handing the plastic tube over to his leader. The older man smiled and returned the nod, then looked over to the couple while placing the tube against the floor like a cane.

“I will be as blunt and concise as possible. Hear me out and then make your choice.” He gestured for them to approach and, after waiting for them to get closer to the table, threw one last sweeping gaze across the room. “We – the Brotherhood of Mutants – intend to liberate all eight-hundred-and-six of our brothers and sisters from the internment camp commonly known as the Xavier Institute.”

Although he had somewhat suspected that Lehnsherr would go directly after the Institute upon hearing the rumours that he’d come to the United States, actually hearing him powerfully announce his intention with such unwavering conviction somehow still astounded him. He felt a strange excitement coursing through him – like the type felt when privy to an event that had the potential to deeply leave its mark in history. He looked over at Felicia and saw that she felt the same, if not more strongly so. There was, of course, also a tinge of fear in those same blue eyes, the kind that could only precede a vast challenge against the status quo.

_‘So that’s it. Everything makes sense now; Beck’s attitude, Magneto’s insistence on involving us… just as they’re planning a scheme like this we show up asking about a mutant being held in the Xavier Institute. I get that he’d think it’s all more than just a coincidence.’_

“Spider-Man, Black Cat,” Lehnsherr said, snapping him out of his reverie. “Will you help us? Will you aid our fight against these jailors and oppressors, and free your friends and the hundreds of others suffering like them?”

There was a brief moment of silence that was only broken by Felicia releasing the breath she’d been holding in with a nervous chuckle. “Well, when you put it like that...”

“Wait.” Peter almost felt surprised as he heard the word leave his mouth, but he pressed on regardless. “Can we get a moment to talk about this? Amongst ourselves?”

Lehnsherr nodded, not seeming disappointed in the least by his response. “Of course. This is a momentous decision, after all, and I will not lie: should you agree, I would seek to involve you in our plans this very day. I see you two not as mere cogs in our revolution, but as key components that could make or break our plans entirely.”

“Uh, thanks.” The intense words had taken him by surprise. “Thank you for your understanding.”

“Not at all. Go upstairs, think things over. You can still back out. But I must warn you, what I said to Steve still applies: events are moving at a truly breakneck pace. I am not trying to push you when I insist that you give us your reply within the next fifteen minutes. I wish I could give you at least a whole day, but…”

 _‘Oh boy.’_ “No, I understand.”

“In that case, please follow Quentin back to the living room. You should have all the privacy you could desire there. We will await your response here.”

“Right, thanks.” Peter turned towards Felicia and ignored the disappointment in her eyes as he nodded his head towards the staircase. “Shall we?”

When they had emerged into the kitchen and left the conspiratorial basement behind them, Peter realized that the air itself down there had felt heavy with expectations and ramifications. _‘Fifteen minutes. Fifteen minutes to either saddle up with the Mutant Revolution or get the hell out of here. No pressure at all.’_

After leading them back to his poster-bedecked living room Beck almost seemed ready to return to the basement without another word when he suddenly clapped his hands together and turned back towards them.

“Spider-Man, um, if I may say something?”

“Uh…” Peter looked towards Felicia, who was leaning against a cupboard on the far end of the room, and then at the haggard reporter before him. “Sure. Go ahead.”

“Okay. Phew.” Beck took a deep breath and wiped his sweaty hands on the sides of his pants. “This might sound kind of awkward, Spider-Man, sir, but you’re the reason I’m who I am.”

“Oh. Okay…”

“Uh, what I mean is... wow, I just _really_ never thought I’d get the chance to talk with you…” Beck scratched at his beard as he searched for the right words. “Before you showed up – before you gave that very first interview to some guy on a rooftop and he brought it straight to me – I’m not sure I actually _believed_ most of what I wrote. Hahaaa.”

Felicia perked up at the man’s words, while Peter simply held his silence.

“Yeah, I mean, all that stuff I told you about tracers and whatnot? Well, it was mostly just tracers without a shred of truth after Ueno. Just one wild rumour after another, whatever. As long as I could mess with The Man, right?”

“Sure.”

“But then you showed up, and I reported that crazy story – because the story of a guy with superpowers actually suiting up and fighting crime is seriously _crazy_ – and everyone followed up. Every other paper made their own story about you, built on the interview I’d gotten first dibs on, even using bits from my article – sorry, I’m rambling on...”

“No, hey.” Peter was finally starting to understand why the man had been so awkward around him before. “It’s fine. Go on.”

“Well… I finally understood how I could really achieve something and do some good. I saw clearly that I could fire those tracers more carefully and actually carve out the truth, not just random nonsense. And the more truth I started digging up after looking seriously, the more I realized all the bullshit I’d reported in the past had actually helped the government… making sure no one took me seriously while drowning out their little misdeeds with my loud circus act. I’d become a tool to those assholes without even realizing it. That’s when I started helping the Brotherhood.” He nodded his head slowly, as if a weight had finally been lifted from his shoulders. “For all that, I wanted to thank you in person, Spider-Man. Sorry I took up some of your time, but I didn’t know if you’d still be here later…”

“Don’t worry about it. That was… quite a story.” Peter smiled under his mask, somehow having gotten the gist of the man’s account. “For what it’s worth, Beck, I was actually a fan of yours before I started running around as Spider-Man.”

“What?” The reporter looked wholeheartedly surprised. “That’s… I mean…”

“Come on.” Peter held up a hand in the air.

Beck stared at his palm for a whole second, as if unsure of what was going on, before grinning and rising to the high-five. The look in his eyes made it clear that this was the highlight of the man’s entire week, at the very least.

“Now if you’ll excuse us, we need to…”

“Yeah, of course, of course.” The Brotherhood’s co-conspirator backed away towards the kitchen wearing a goofy smile. “Take your time. Or, you know…”

“Yeah.”

A few seconds later Beck was gone, and as the refrigerator rumbled into place behind him Felicia walked towards the centre of the living room.

“Wow. What did I just witness?”

“Honestly? I’m not too sure myself.”

“So… Spider-Man.” He could tell from her tone that she was deathly serious. “Guess you needed to talk things through about the whole mutant liberation thing? Weigh the pros and the cons?”

“Not really, Black Cat.” He walked over to her, despising the fact that they could neither remove their masks or use their real names in such a suspicious location. “I already know exactly what I would’ve said to Magneto in that regard.”

“Oh? Then why didn’t you do that instead of looking flaky and undecided in front of the whole Brotherhood?”

“Because I love you, and a decision like this beggars a little more than just hearing one of Magneto’s neat little speeches.”

“What?” The pair of blue eyes peeking at him through the balaclava and the hoodie widened perceptibly for a moment. “What are you on about? Love? I-”

“Black Cat,” he said, taking another step towards her. “I’d follow you into hell itself if you told me that’s what you wanted to do. But I need to hear you say it first, rather than both of us just agreeing to Lehnsherr’s proposal on the spot.”

Felicia kept looking at him in silence for a long moment before finally letting her shoulders slump. “Dammit Peter,” she whispered. “This is why we never get to have any fights…”

“Codenames…”

“Whatever.” She reached for one of his hands. “Damn, I… I didn’t really think about it that way. So what would you have said to Magneto?”

“About joining a band of freedom fighters labelled as terrorists to liberate my friends and hundreds of other mutants from a secret detention camp?” He smiled. “I would’ve said ‘yes’ in a flash.”

“So would I. This is our chance to make a difference… to really fight what’s happening here every day.”

“Lehnsherr said he’d have a job for us as early as today. If anyone sees us with the Brotherhood we’ll be called terrorists.”

“I know.”

“Depending on what kind of work he has for us, we might have to fight the police. Maybe even the military…” He gently placed a hand on her shoulder. “We’ll be shot at.”

“Yeah.”

“So you’re sure you want to go through with this? I don’t think the Winter Soldier down there would take kindly to us backing out later.”

“It’s the right thing to do.”

“Yeah. It is.” He playfully flicked one of the cat ears on her hoodie. “See? Good talk.”

“Good talk. And hey…”

“Hm?”

“Thanks. Really. I know I can get a little heated up with this whole mutant issue…”

“Don’t worry about it. Honestly, I’m really glad we’re doing this; busting into the Savage Land alongside you and Steve Rogers is definitely the best way I can imagine helping Scott and Kitty out.”

“I’m sure ol’ Captain America will take to you in no time once we give them the good news.” He could almost see the grin behind her balaclava. “Come on, Spider-Man, the Brotherhood of Mutants awaits us in their creepy conspiracy chamber.”

Peter felt like a heavy burden had been lifted off his shoulders as the couple pushed the surprisingly-light fridge aside and made their way down the stairwell.

Lehnsherr was sitting down at the table alongside Rogers and Beck when they entered the room, the plastic tube still leaning against the ground like a walking stick. “Well now, that was fast.”

“It was just a matter of clearing things up a little,” Peter said, walking towards them. “All that information before was quite overwhelming.”

“Naturally, and I apologize for that. Bluntness has been the ally of expediency these last few days, though it leaves little room for elegance.” He tapped his foot expectantly. “So, your decision?”

Peter nodded at Felicia, and she took a step forwards to address the room.

“We’ll help the Brotherhood,” she declared proudly. “Spider-Man and Black Cat will aid your fight for mutantkind however we can.”

“Marvellous,” Lehnsherr drawled, smiling broadly. “Simply marvellous. Welcome aboard, you two.”

“Told you they’d agree,” Emma Frost muttered.

While Beck and the two other mutants near the back of the room nodded approvingly, Rogers slowly rose from his chair to regard them. He loomed somewhere in the range of six feet and would have seemed outright threatening if not for the thin smile on his face.

“While I may still need a while to get to know you two, Magneto is certainly correct in that time is no longer on our side.” The ancient war hero shrugged and sat back down. “Even considering that, you took the time to talk things over first… that’s a good sign in my book.”

“A serendipitous visit results in a pair of new allies… truly the hand of fate at work.” Lehnsherr unscrewed a plastic lid from the tube in his hands and gingerly withdrew a large rolled-up document. “Even though I already briefly mentioned it before, I feel obliged to ask you once again: would you be willing to participate in our operation this very night?”

The couple nodded in unison.

“Excellent. While you were upstairs talking we all came to the agreement that the both of you would be perfect for this mission.” He unrolled the document to reveal a detailed blueprint. “This week presents our best chance to lay the groundwork for our rescue.”

Peter nodded at the document, which was oddly labelled. “What’s that?”

“First of all, some background. Quentin?”

“Hm? Oh, right.” The bearded man shuffled in his seat to bring the chair closer to the table while waving for the pair to approach. “So, the Brotherhood’s rescue operation. The target, as you already know, is the Xavier Institute.”

“Better known as the Savage Land by many,” hissed the blue-skinned youth.

Peter nodded, having heard the latter moniker oftentimes. It purportedly stemmed from a former patient’s reports on the sickening, or savage, experiments that had been conducted on his fellow inmates by doctors there. The name had spread around like wildfire, even after the interviewed mutant had suddenly vanished off the face of the earth and despite the Institute’s public condemnation of such allegations.

“Right,” Beck continued. “For the past year, the Institute’s location has been kept a complete secret by the government, supposedly to protect the mutants being ‘rehabilitated’ within it from angry mobs or whatever.” He suddenly beamed with pride as he looked up towards the couple. “Well, it’s a secret no longer. We now know where to find the Savage Land.”

Peter almost had to bite his lip to stop himself from asking where it was and from whom they’d discovered its location, only too aware that it would sound exactly like the kind of question a spy would blurt out.

Emma Frost suddenly snorted while she unwrapped another stick of chewing gum.

Lehnsherr could clearly tell what was on Peter’s mind as he leaned over the map. “Tell them where it is, Quentin. And how we found out.”

Beck glanced at Rogers uncertainly, but the super soldier seemed to have given up his struggle to hide the group’s secrets.

“It’s in the Rocky Mountains, in Wyoming,” the founder of Mysterio said after a short pause. “That much we knew before, but I recently got the exact location from our man on the inside, as it were… Nick Fury.”

Peter’s eyes widened in surprise upon hearing the name. _‘Now that’s one hell of an inside man.’_

Fury, having been discharged from his position as Director of SHIELD following the Brooklyn Abomination’s rampage, had survived the dismemberment of his old organization relatively intact, at least when compared with the numerous high-ranking members who now sat in prison or shameful decrepitude. The famous general had been demoted and assigned a new post where he could make amends for his mistakes, and as a result was made head of the formerly SHIELD-operated prison complex on Fire Island where Bruce Banner was serving his myriad life sentences, some sixty kilometres from New York City.

While he had known little about the man, Peter had always suspected that there was more to him than just a cool eyepatch. He would never have suspected, however, that he might secretly be working with the Brotherhood of Mutants.

“How’d you manage to pull that off?” Felicia sounded just as surprised while posing the question.

“Hard to say,” Beck said with a proud smirk. “I tried interviewing him a bunch of times after the Brooklyn Disaster, and one day he just caved and started talking with me. I guess his conscience got the better of him, because he just told me the location and asked that I do something good with the information. Maybe he finally developed a guilty conscience.”

_‘It’s also likely he felt no-one would take Beck seriously if the info got out and figured there’d be little risk in telling him…’_

Emma, who’d been leaning back on her chair’s rear two legs, suddenly guffawed so loudly that she almost lost her balance. Rogers reached out with blinding speed and steadied the girl’s seat while casting a disapproving glare at her.

Beck cleared his throat, glancing about. “Right. That brings us up to the present day.”

“Thank you, Quentin,” Lehnsherr said with a grateful bow of his head. “So, we have the location and we have the means; preparations for the assault and subsequent evacuation have already been put in place. The only component that we lack is a piece of critical information.”

“Information on patrol routes, the troop strength of their reinforcements, security codes…” Rogers suddenly spoke up, as if he could no longer bear simply sitting by silently. “We’ve been trying to acquire that information for weeks, but the coming days present what may be our one and only shot at getting it.”

“That data can be found right here in this city,” Lehnsherr said. “Right in the hands of one of the Institute’s biggest patrons… J. Jonah Jameson.”

Another surprising name, though less so than Fury’s had been. Peter knew about Jameson only in passing, the latter being one of New York’s oldest and wealthiest industrialists who had kicked off his vast fortunes by founding the Daily Bugle decades ago.

“Jameson?” Felicia also clearly knew of the secretive mogul. “That old fossil’s privy to that kind of information?”

“Indeed he is,” the leader of the Brotherhood nodded. “Jameson has been one of the strongest proponents behind the scenes of the Xavier Institute and new laws that restrict the rights of mutants in the States. Though he barely even has a public image anymore he’s been extremely active in the development of practically all we strive to fight against, which is why he’s been kept regularly-updated on even the smallest details concerning such matters.”

“Hm.” The cat burglar crossed her arms over her chest. “Sounds like a real asshole.”

From the corner of his eye Peter noticed the tall stoic man referred to as Colossus nodding his head vigorously at her words.

“Indeed,” Lehnsherr said. “What’s more, the man’s office complex in Manhattan is built like a fortress. We know through Fury that the data can be found in there, but until today we had no chance of getting to it.”

“Why?” Peter raised an eyebrow. “What happens in the next few days?”

“A lot of things all at once,” Rogers stated. “Chief amongst them that Jameson is leaving for his upstate villa for a couple of days, meaning security in the building will be much-reduced. One small window to act before we set the main plan in motion.”

“That’s cutting it pretty close, don’t you think?” Felicia was voicing the same doubts that Peter was harbouring. “I know you said events are moving along quickly, but even so…”

“We’re aware,” Rogers said, only afterwards taking the edge off his tone. “This is simply our earliest possible timeframe to save the mutants being held at the Institute. If we can’t get that info we’ll just have to delay the operation by a few weeks, maybe even months.”

“That’s where the two of you come in.” Lehnsherr leaned over the blueprint dominating the table in the middle of the room, which now clearly depicted Jameson’s office complex. “This is the headquarters of Jameson International, the penthouse of which serves as the home of the man himself and all his personal files. The original plan was to send Nightcrawler up there to retrieve the files while we placed Steve and Colossus on standby should a diversion be needed. Not the most eloquent of plans, but the only one we could manage in time from the very heart of enemy territory.”

“I still think it’s a good plan,” Rogers said. “Rough, yes, but at least it’s had more than a single day of planning put into it.”

“It’s full of holes, Steve.” The older man shook his head gravely. “I know it was the best we could come up with, but I still don’t think that was good enough. Nightcrawler can only teleport within his field of vision, and he would have been alone up there. I don’t doubt his abilities, but the odds were definitely not stacked in our favour.” He glanced up at Peter and Felicia. “Factor in the most famous burglar in the city and a man who can climb on walls, however…”

Felicia, suddenly feeling all the attention in the room on her, cleared her throat nervously.

“So, you want us to break into Jameson’s penthouse to retrieve the data?”

“That’s right,” Lehnsherr nodded.

“I usually scout out the places I hit for a long time beforehand,” she said. “Going after a target like this on such short notice…”

“I’m truly sorry, but it’s the best we could do. The window of opportunity will be closed in four days, when security gets switched around.” The grey-haired man looked at the couple earnestly. “Do you think it isn’t doable in the time we have left?”

“Honestly?” There was a fierce azure intensity in Felicia’s eyes as she looked around the room. “I’d pull it off if I six hours to prepare. I’ve been eying that tower for the last couple of weeks already, so I guess now’s as good a time as any, right?”


	5. Chapter 5

It didn’t take the Brotherhood a very long time to lay out all they knew about Jameson’s penthouse, since the eminent old man had always maintained a particularly intense level of privacy about his personal estates. They had supposedly received first-hand descriptions of the place from one of their allies who had visited the penultimate floor, but such a cordial visit hardly shed much light on security and surveillance measures. All this notwithstanding, Felicia felt confident that she could effect a break-in without too much trouble as long as she pored over the smuggled blueprints long enough.

Over the next few days, the unexpected plot had begun to gestate and take form. Felicia had made full use of the weekend to scout out Jameson International’s offices and insisted that she go alone whenever Peter had offered to accompany her. She had similarly spent long evenings pouring over the blueprints and notes handed to her by the Brotherhood with impressive dedication. While he had initially wondered if this was how she usually planned for a break-in, the worried expression she had always wore when returning from her scouting missions told him that there was something about this task in particular that was bothering her.

It wasn’t until the night of the robbery, as the couple stood on the edge of an adjacent building and looked up at the enormous tower that was Jameson International’s headquarters, that Peter finally understood why she was having second thoughts.

“Some view, huh?” The burglars was kneeling down as she continued to readjust her grappling hook. “Looks a lot taller up close.”

“You can say that again,” Peter said. “Honestly, I’m pretty surprised I never tried climbing this thing. It’s, what, forty floors?”

“Thirty-six,” she said calmly. “And you probably never noticed it because it’s just another New York high-rise among hundreds.”

“Fair enough. Well, I have been wanting to give Jameson an honest review of all the opinion pieces he’s written on me for the past year now.”

“Well, you’ll have to go to the Hamptons for that.” She tested the hook and, seeming satisfied, attached it to her belt. “Maybe you can stow away on some chopper and give him the surprise visit of his lifetime?”

“No thanks,” Peter winced. “I’m definitely not going near helicopters after my last experience. It wasn’t a particularly pleasant one.”

“Heh.” After looking up at the building for a few seconds Felicia turned her gaze towards him. “You still up for this?”

“You’re asking me now?” He grinned under the mask. “Of course I am. I finally get to watch you work, after all.”

“These aren’t exactly my usual methods, you know?”

“You mean you don’t regularly require Spider-Man’s help in getting up to rooftops? I never would have guessed!”

“Oh, shut up,” she snorted. “I told you there’s way too much glass on that thing for me to reach the top on my own. It’s like you were destined for this.”

“Ah, of course. As if Magneto didn’t try to convince me enough about destiny for one lifetime.”

“Heh. He does like to use that word a lot, doesn’t he?”

“Yeah,” Peter nodded, scratching at his chin while wishing he could remove his mask. “There’s still a lot we don’t know about him, though. Like what his powers are.”

“Maybe the fathomless powers of making epic monologues?”

“I’m serious, you know?”

“Hey, so am I.” Felicia double-checked the items attached to her belt one final time. “Probably something to do with magnets? Beck said the Brotherhood would fully let us in on the rescue plan once we’d helped them, so I’m sure he’ll tell us then. Have a little faith.”

“I want to, it’s just... I dunno.” He sighed. “I’m just trying to stay on top of things. Even if the Brotherhood are the good guys, everything’s been happening so quickly...”

The cat burglar suddenly stopped her repeated checks and looked at him intensely. She had strapped a pair of thermal goggles around her forehead which bunched up her hoodie’s cat ears.

“It’ll be fine,” she said simply. “We’ll pull this off without a snag.”

“What?”

“The robbery, the heist. Just follow my lead.”

“Who said anything about the heist? I told you I’m worried about Magneto…”

“Come on, man. Who do you think I am?” Though her words were teasing, he could tell from the glint in her eyes that she was truly making an effort to put him at ease. “I mean, yeah, I know you’re worried about him too. But we already covered that issue back at Beck’s place.” She nodded her head towards the tall building above them. “You’re worried about _that_ , aren’t you?”

Peter opened his mouth to deny her assumption, but realized the futility of doing so before he could. “Not gonna lie,” he shook his head, “breaking into a place like that is a pretty big step for me. I was hoping we could start smaller, like, you know, a lemonade stand?”

“Lemonade stands are _way_ scarier targets than this. You should be grateful.” She took a step towards him. “Guess this also goes against your code of honour?”

“No!” Peter replied quickly, almost automatically. “No, this is for a good cause. Plus, Jameson’s a dirtbag of the worst kind, from what Magneto told us…”

“Right. So just follow my lead and we’ll breeze through this like it’s nothing.” She winked an eye. “Think of it as a fair exchange: you help me with the one heist and I’ll help you make the world a better place.”

“Well, when you put it like that…” He shrugged exaggeratedly, feeling significantly calmer than he had just minutes before, despite the circumstances. “How could I say no to such an offer?”

“That’s the spirit!” She gave him a playful punch on the arm. “Now then, let’s go rob that evil old curmudgeon.”

Peter was astonished at how smoothly the first few stages of the break-in went. He had dreaded that something might go awry within the first minute and they would have to race against time to recover the documents before the guards came running in, but all was silent on the rooftop of Jameson International as he watched Felicia use an electrical apparatus of some sort to open the lock of the sunroof.

 _‘Guess I’ve just watched too many movies about situations like these.’_ As if reading his thoughts, Felicia turned her head and gave him a curt thumbs-up which he returned. He almost felt sheepish as he watched her work, since his only job so far had been to swing up onto the rooftop and pull her up with a web; though she insisted that it had been an important task due to security devices lining the building’s windows, Peter couldn’t help but wonder if his presence had really been a requirement for the mission. _‘Well, I’m just glad I can at least help out in case things do go south.’_

According to the Brotherhood’s intel, the odds of such an outcome were low. With Jameson’s departure the security at his offices was undergoing changes in both electronic and physical security, so the likelihood of guards showing up was almost non-existent. That fact, coupled with the assistance lent to them by the notes on the blueprints in avoiding any security cameras, made the whole operation seem almost trivial. _‘That blue-skinned guy could probably have done it himself, despite what Magneto said. No, this is obviously a test of some kind, putting us in charge of a critical mission to really ensure our loyalty. It wouldn’t surprise me if some member of the Brotherhood or other is nearby, keeping an eye out…’_ The thought prompted him to look around just as Felicia reached into one of the satchels on her outfit to pull out a different tool. _‘If that’s so clear to see, then why do I feel like there’s something seriously off about this whole thing?’_

It was evident that despite Lehnsherr’s words, the Brotherhood did not trust them quite as much as they claimed to. Besides Magneto not having revealed his powers as he had for the other mutants, he had also refused to answer any of Peter’s questions about Scott or Kitty, insisting that such information could only be disclosed on the eve of the rescue operation. The older man had likewise confirmed their suspicions that there was something more than mere altruism to the mission, some sort of higher goal which he would only reveal at the right time. _‘Honestly, what have we gotten ourselves into here?’_

“Got it,” Felicia said quietly, putting down her tools and prying the sunroof open gingerly. She lowered a small video camera with a live feed through the gap and spent a full minute moving and looking through it before she finally looked up at him. “Looks clear. You ready?”

“What?” He pointed at his mask. “Don’t I look ready?”

“Truly the eyes of a killer,” she grinned under her mask. “Security on the latch should be off, but still, be careful. I’ll go in first, then you follow. Wait for my signal.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

The cat burglar nimbly disappeared between the gap on the window, which she had ajar by something that looked like a bicycle pump. _‘Geeze. I’d make a terrible thief, what with the absolute lack of pockets here…’_ A moment later he saw a green laser pointer hit the sunroof twice from below and moved to enter the penthouse. _‘Honestly, though, you gotta admire the professionalism. Guess I never really thought about how much effort some of the people I beat up were putting into their craft before I, well, beat them up.’_

The first thing that struck him upon dropping into the darkened room was, oddly enough, the rich cinnamon smell permeating the air. _‘Whoa. J. Jonah does seem to enjoy his fresheners, doesn’t he?’_ He refrained from making a comment to Felicia, recalling how she had urged him to keep any talk to an absolute minimum. _‘Honestly, it’s like the burglaring profession was shaped specifically to keep me far away from it. Yet here I am.’_

Although the entire room was cast in darkness due to the blinds being down, Peter’s eyes quickly adapted to make out the finer details. A large, glossy desk took up the centre of the room by the large window behind it but, with the exception of the few chairs placed next to it and a couple of small tables holding up little bonsai trees, the marbled room was exceptionally bare. It was only after looking around for a while that he noticed what looked like a large, empty hospital bed placed next to the exit’s double doors.

Feeling a tap on his shoulder, Peter turned to see Felicia aiming the laser pointer at one of the two square columns adorning the room. With a short blink of the green laser she indicated a small inconspicuous security camera covering the exit. Turning her arm, she pointed out another one attached to the other column which was observing the centre of the room, just out of sight of their entry spot. Finally, she aimed the laser at the desk by the windows and pocketed the pointer, nodding towards the furniture with her head. Peter nodded in understanding, feeling oddly proud to be able to observe her at work like this. _‘Maybe it’d be okay if she keeps robbing scumbags like Jameson… like Robin Hood or something? Oh man, Uncle Ben would really chew me out for that thought, wouldn’t he?’_

Careful to avoid the security camera’s field of vision, Peter moved over to the table at a crouch in tow of Felicia. The cat burglar stopped just by her target and looked it over carefully, only moving to face the rightmost drawer after looking it over carefully. He watched her pick at the drawer’s lock while kneeling by the window, his eyes darting about the room nervously every now and again. _‘Boy, would it be comedy gold if Jameson made a surprise visit to his office right now. He’d have headlines to write about Spider-Man and Black Cat for the next couple hundred years, the old grouch.’_

With a quiet click, the cat burglar finally overcame the lock and carefully slid the drawer open. Peter observed quietly as she rifled through dozens of documents divided neatly by colour-coded headers and folders. Finally, she stopped flicking through the pile and leaned in closer as she pulled out one folder in particular. Turning towards him with gleaming blue eyes, she handed Peter the folder and turned her back to him while carefully closing the drawer.

 _‘Ah. This must be my other critical task in this operation. Always glad to be of service.’_ He quietly undid a strap on her backpack and slowly unzipped a section of it. As he lowered the folder into the hollow space he noticed the dull title printed on its cover, which matched Magneto’s description: ‘MTP-23/MT-ES-788’. He was careful to make as little sound as possible as he resealed the rucksack. _‘And so, the deed is done. What daring, nefarious misdeeds might Spider-Man undertake next?’_

After patting Felicia on the shoulder, Peter followed her back towards the exit and helped her reach the open sunroof. Almost banging his head against the glass as he followed her up, he welcomed the sudden onset of summer wind and the humming sounds of the busy city below.

He doubted that the entire operation had taken more than fifteen minutes.

“Tadaah,” Felicia said as she carefully shut the sunroof. “Welcome to the criminal underworld, Spider-Man.” She stood up and moved closer to him with a bounce in her step. “What do you think?”

“Well, it smells a lot like cinnamon all right…”

“Oh, laugh it up, henchman.”

Peter grinned. “But really, that was impressive. You were, well… really great. Really professional.”

“Ah, yes.” The cat burglar fanned herself with a hand operatically. “Keep it coming, keep it coming.”

“What, you want a Burglar of the Year Award or something?”

“I think I have a couple of those already…” She seemed to be swelling with pride and excitement over the successful theft, but looked surprised when Peter took a step towards her.

“Really, Felicia. I used to be afraid whenever you went out on a job, you know? That you’d get caught, or that something would go wrong…” Peter glanced at the shut sunroof. “Not anymore. I damn well know now that you’ll never get caught.”

Felicia blinked, seemingly taken aback by his words. “Come on, you cheeseball,” she laughed softly. “Flattery will get you nowhere.”

“Speaking of which, shouldn’t we be, you know, fleeing the scene?”

“Pfft.” She shook her head. “Don’t worry about it. The security up here is about as good as in a camping tent.”

“So this really was a test, huh? By the Brotherhood?”

Felicia shrugged, making her way over to the edge of the building.

“Maybe. There was actually some pretty real security down there, though mostly inactive, like Lehnsherr said it’d be. Noticed how the cameras weren’t moving? Big cats like Jameson often like to mix ease of access with good security. Too much of one is always a problem.”

“So these documents are most likely the real deal, then.” He looked at her rucksack. “Some kind of key into the Xavier Institute.”

“I’d put my money on it, yeah.” Felicia smiled deviously under her balaclava. “Wanna take a peek?”

“You know, the thought had crossed my mind. But honestly,” he shook his head slowly. “I want to take this straight to Lehnsherr and have him fess up so that we can finally see the whole damn picture on this rescue he’s plotting.”

“I feel the same way.” She held out a hand to him as she reached the spot where they had planned to descend back towards an adjacent rooftop. “What do you say, good sir? Beeline to Beck’s Den of UFO Theories and Mutant Revolutionaries?”

The ‘beeline’ to Beck’s house in Hell’s Kitchen turned out to be a rather indirect and time-consuming matter as they’d changed into their civilian clothes and made their way down into the subway. Felicia carried her outfit and gear in a khaki satchel bag she’d brought along and occasionally complained about its weight, but in light of them wanting to show up before the Brotherhood in costume she had little choice in the matter. Peter once again felt appreciative of how easy it was to do away with his own outfit on a whim as he took his turn in carrying the bulky bag.

Even though it wasn’t the first time he had used public transport after a bout as Spider-Man, Peter somehow felt more apprehensive than usual as he looked about at the other commuters in the carriage. Felicia seemed to notice how he felt and suddenly and somewhat jarringly asked him if he would rather be a vampire or a werewolf; the resulting in-depth small talk about the matter went on long enough to keep them distracted until they had almost reached their destination just past midnight.

Finding an empty alley from which they could get up to a rooftop, the couple changed back into their outfits before making their way down towards the creepy doorway leading into the apartment building. Even though Beck had insisted that they show up at any time after work hours, regardless of the late hour, Peter wished the secretiveness surrounding his alter ego wouldn’t make it impossible to share his cell phone number; the thought of tearing members of the Brotherhood out of their sleep hardly sat well with him, particularly when he pictured a grumpy and exhausted Steve Rogers. Pushing aside the thought, he pressed the ‘Mystery’ button as they made their way inside.

Beck was already standing at the open threshold to his flat, observing their approach in tight-fitting clothes similar to the ones he’d worn during their last encounter. He waved at them as they neared the doorway, his manner vigorous enough that it was apparent that he had not been sleeping when they’d announced their arrival.

“Spider-Man, Black Cat,” the reporter said somewhat awkwardly. “I can only assume by your return that you completed Erik’s mission?”

“Was that ever in doubt?” Felicia pointed at her backpack. “I said we’d get it done within three days, didn’t I?”

“You did, you did.” There was something akin to awe as Beck looked them over. “You broke right into the heart of corporate imperialism for our cause. That’s just… really awesome.”

“Uh, yeah.” Peter leaned slightly to the side to look past the man. “Is Lehnsherr in? We wanted to bring this to him as quickly as possible.”

“Oh, of course. Please, come in.” The bearded man quickly stepped aside reverentially to let them pass. “Erik’s downstairs with Rogers. The others are asleep.”

“We were hoping not to wake anyone.”

“Well, you needn’t worry about that. Those two are always up until the early morning hours to talk with allies in Europe, and I usually just chill out for a few hours before hitting the hay now that publications are on hold.”

“Yeah,” Peter said, screwing up his nose under his mask at the smell of marijuana permeating the living room. “I can tell.”

“Oh, sorry about that.” The reporter darted over to an ashtray in the central living room table and brought it up to one of the shuttered windows, which he quickly opened. “Um. It’ll clear out in a second.”

“No worries,” Felicia said, clearly trying to hold in a laugh. “We’ll just be downstairs, then.”

“Yeah, yeah.” Beck ran a hand across his scraggly hair as he nodded. “I’ll catch up with you in a moment.”

The couple went into the kitchen and moved aside the fridge blocking the hidden stairwell into the basement. They had made it halfway down the stairs when Felicia chortled loudly.

“Well,” she said, “now we finally know the primary source for most of Mysterio’s breaking news.”

“You didn’t notice the joint in the ashtray the last time we were here?” Peter grinned under his mask. “We should cut the guy a little slack. It ain’t easy waging a guerrilla war on corporate capitalism, you know?”

“Oh, and how.”

The jovial air between them quickly dissipated as soon as they entered the dreary basement that had been repurposed into a war room and stood face to face with Magneto and the Winter Soldier. The two freedom fighters were poring over a map of some sort and looked up immediately as soon as the couple entered the room.

“Well now. Our New York allies return.” Lehnsherr was smiling jovially as he stood upright to greet them. “And a day earlier than expected.”

“We didn’t want to cut it so close to your deadline,” Felicia said, stopping at a cautious distance from the duo.

“A most prudent choice. The question may seem redundant, but I must ask it: did you procure the documents?”

Rather than replying, Felicia removed and opened her backpack, retrieving the folder she had stolen only hours before.

Lehnsherr held out a hand towards the item. “May I?”

“Go ahead.”

Taking the documents, the leader of the Brotherhood opened the folder for a second and smiled as he looked at the contents within. “And you said they wouldn’t deliver, Steve.”

Rogers, who had been observing the couple in silence up until then, simply sighed as he moved around the table towards them. “Just doing my job, Erik… but you’re right. They’ve proven their worth.”

“If you’d be so kind?”

“I’ll be right back.” The Winter Soldier nodded silently at Peter and Felicia in turn as he walked by them and began ascending the stairwell. There was something about the way he moved his impressive frame that had been had been harder to detect during their first encounter, like a heaviness indicative of exhaustion and weariness.

“Where’s he going?” Peter asked.

“He’s going retrieve all the mission intel we have,” Lehnsherr said, laying the documents out on the table and sitting down on one of the chairs, “for you have now gained our trust and it is time for a full disclosure. Please, take a seat. We’ve much to discuss.”

_‘Time for the cards to finally hit the table, huh?’_

Peter and Felicia sat down opposite the older man as he placed a hand on top of the stolen information and looked directly at them.

“Have you had a look at the contents?”

“What?” The cat burglar almost seemed offended by the question. “No. We brought it straight to you.”

“I see. I believe you.” Lehsnherr smiled thinly, sadly. “Your loyalty is admirable, just as my deceit is deplorable.”

Peter frowned. “Deceit?”

“If you had looked at the documents you would have noticed that they concern you far more than they do me. For they are not, in fact, security details for the Savage Land.”

“I knew it,” Felicia said with surprising calm after a second. “No way Jameson would keep info like that in his office. Especially when the security there is so light.”

“Indeed,” Lehnsherr nodded, “you surmise correctly. We already have that information, and it was far harder to come by than simply breaking into a penthouse. Far harder, and far costlier.”

“It didn’t make sense from the start. You making your entire operation dependant on our success…”

“So, what?” Peter felt like many of his suspicions were oddly vindicated as he spoke up. “This was all just to test us?”

“Yes and no. While the main goal was to ascertain your loyalty – your willingness to break into the guarded den of one of our great foes – I also sought to answer the question that brought you to us in the first place.” He pushed the documents towards them. “Please, have a look.”

After a moment of hesitation, Peter pulled the papers closer. His eyes widened even before he read any of the contents as he caught sight of the mugshot stuck to a corner of the file. The occupant, wearing a grey jumpsuit, was easily recognizable despite the bizarre metal contraption that covered his eyes. _‘Scott.’_

The page read as a report on his friend, a hard-to-understand mixture of coded jargon and simple sentences. Amongst the more understandable parts was a description of his power as ‘energy manipulation triggered around the cornea’, which was further labelled as a ‘Tier Five’ ability due for reassessment and potential benefits. The file also contained a section on his detainment period at the Xavier Institute, deemed ‘Indefinite as tests pending’. _‘So Scott really is at the Savage Land. And they’re… experimenting on him? Keeping him confined indefinitely? What the hell…’_

Moving aside Scott’s report, Peter saw Kitty’s just underneath it. There was a similarly-miserable mugshot of her wearing a jumpsuit just like Scott’s, except she was glaring furiously at the cameraman, her blue eyes displaying a rage and intensity he had never even imagined they could possess. Her power, simply termed ‘physical dematerialization’, bore a ‘Tier Four’ description of being ‘observable, but impossible to refine’. Unlike Scott’s page, hers had a section at the bottom where several ‘misdemeanours’ were listed, such as attacks on prison security and even a detailed report on an attempt to break into the ‘Tier Five Block’. A handwritten note deemed her ‘socially unfit’, followed by an addendum simply reading ‘Observe at all times’.

“Jesus,” Felicia said quietly as she read through the files. “These read like a dystopian sci-fi novel.”

“They do,” Magneto nodded grimly. “Yet, they are also our reality. Mutants at the Xavier Institute are indoctrinated, brainwashed and, should their powers be deemed realistically usable by the military, they are outright experimented on. These are the so-called Tier Five mutants, and Mr. Summers here is the second one we know of by name due to his incarceration alongside Ms. Pryde.”

“Bastards,” Peter hissed, unable to tear his eyes away from Scott’s mugshot. “Fucking bastards.”

“This is the true face of what we are fighting against. All this cruelty and spite being levelled against mutants – we tried everything in our power to end it with words.” He stood up and looked towards the stairwell. “Now it is time for action.”

“What can you do against something like this?” An overwhelming feeling of disgust and hatred, not only towards the government but also towards a great deal of mankind, was coldly developing in his gut. _‘I never knew. Never knew the extent of all this… the sheer insanity.’_ “Against people like this?”

“All will be revealed in a moment. But first, I want to earn your trust just as you have earned ours.”

Peter followed his gaze towards the staircase just in time to see Rogers entering the room alongside Beck, who carried a small stack of dossiers. The bearded man gave them an awkward smile as he and the former war hero stood alongside Magneto.

“As I mentioned before,” the leader of the Brotherhood said, “we shall begin with disclosures. You now know that your mission to retrieve these documents was not what I claimed it to be. The information we required for the mission on the Institute was acquired through a combination of Fury’s help, multiple operations throughout Europe, and Emma’s continued efforts. These are the fruits of our labours.”

Beck laid the dossiers out on the table, and Peter could tell what they were even at a simple glance. _‘Battle plans.’_ Maps containing countless handwritten notes in different colours and writing styles, satellite pictures of a concrete facility built alongside a mountain which could only be the Savage Land, even blurry snapshots of what appeared to be some kind of dark, oval room containing hundreds upon hundreds of octagonal little screens… _‘The whole nine yards. Jesus.’_

One document in particular caught his attention, a personnel dossier similar to those of Scott and Kitty. _‘Holy crap, is that…’_

“Charles Xavier,” Lehnsherr drawled slowly, having noticed exactly what he was looking at. “The eponymous man behind the Xavier Institute, spokesperson of the government’s policies on mutantkind and, last but not least, the main target of our entire operation.”

“You’re going to take out Xavier?” Felicia’s tone betrayed her surprise.

“Not kill. Save.”

“What?”

“The Charles Xavier you know is not the real one,” Rogers said, pointing a finger at the photo on the dossier. “A different mutant with shapeshifting capabilities is being forced to impersonate him during public government appearances. The real Xavier is being kept at the Savage Land.”

“Why?” Peter was almost having trouble keeping up with the steady stream of new revelations.

“Because Xavier is an extremely powerful telepath and they hope to attune him to as many mutants as possible for what they’ve got planned.”

“The CIA drafted a plan that was passed last year,” Lehnsherr quickly clarified. “To use the machine in that picture – something they codenamed ‘Cerebro’ – to amplify his powers and make every mutant on the planet instantly detectable and easy to track.”

“Jesus.” Felicia stared at the blurry photo of the darkened oval room. “That’s why you want to get him out of there? To stop them?”

“Yes, though there is another reason of similar importance, if not greater.” The leader of the Brotherhood sat down slowly and looked at them directly with cold, hard eyes. “For we are building a nation – shaping it from the earth stone by stone – and for that, we have need of a leader.”

“Genosha,” Felicia whispered.

“So you’ve heard of it? I’d been informed that some details were starting to leak out online.”

Peter knew the word as well: the purported name of a multi-billion dollar project being undertaken by the Norwegian government and private contractors to craft an artificial peninsula out of a series of fjords. He had read about it in the context of environmentalist groups protesting the changes to the landscape and its flora, but had also seen the online rumours that Lehnsherr and the Brotherhood were somehow involved.

“I thought you were Genosha’s leader,” the cat burglar said.

“Oh, I am,” Magneto replied casually. “But I am only a temporary leader, one to set the stage for Xavier’s return so that we can lead Genosha in tandem – a mutant and a human ruling a nation fit for both species.”

“A human?” Peter frowned. “What do you mean?”

“Merely the next revelation: that of the Brotherhood’s best-kept secret.” Lehnsherr smiled amusedly. “For I, the dread Magneto, am a human. I have no powers.”

“What?!” Felicia’s reaction was almost comical as she sat up straight. “That… makes no sense.”

“Doesn’t it? Is it really so strange for a man to want to stand up to injustice, even if it is being perpetrated against a different species than his?”

“No, but I mean…” She glanced at Peter, who was similarly lost for words. “All those speeches you gave…”

“Of course, I’ve created the _impression_ that I am a mutant,” Magneto nodded. “I have had to do so in order to facilitate gaining the trust of mutants seeking shelter after having lost faith in mankind. However, I have told all my followers the truth at some point or other; one cannot create a land free from the shackles of other nations without absolute transparency.”

“And… what about the name?”

“Ah.” Lehnsherr’s smile widened fondly. “Magneto, the Master of Magnetism. It was a silly moniker that Charles Xavier gave to me when we were studying in Yale – he used to say I was good at charming people. I use it in his honour.”

“You were friends,” Peter said, stunned.

“Yes. We still are. Yet another reason for me to undertake this operation, not that any more are needed. Which, finally, brings us to the mission at hand. Steve, if you’d be so kind?”

“Before I give you a rundown of the plan,” the Winter Soldier said, “I have to ask an obvious question: are you on board?”

“Steve...”

“Sorry Erik.” Rogers was looking directly at the couple as he spoke, though his gaze was bereft of its previous animosity and now bore only curiosity. “I know they’ve proven their loyalty, but the ultimate decision to take part in this is theirs, friends of the Brotherhood or no. I need to hear it from them.”

Peter glanced at Felicia, though even that much was hardly needed at this point; between the talk that they had already had during their last visit to Beck’s house, the dossiers on Scott and Kitty, and Magneto’s revelations about Charles Xavier and Genosha there really could be no doubt in either of their minds as to how they would reply to a question like that.

“Yeah,” Peter said as Felicia nodded, “we’re on board. One hundred percent.”

Rogers flashed one of his rare smiles upon hearing his words. “Glad to hear it. I expected no less from you two.”

“Well,” Beck said, speaking up for the first time since entering the cellar, “now that those pleasantries are out of the way…”

“Right.” The blonde man pushed aside several documents on the table to reveal the noted map of the Savage Land. “Our operation starts at six in the morning, six days from now. We depart the day before. It’ll be a small-sized op – around forty mutants participating in two groups, not including us.”

“So few?” Felicia asked, staring at the map.

“There are over a hundred guards posted at the Institute,” Lehnsherr chimed in, “and the entire 82nd Airborne Division is posted less than an hour away as a contingency against a breakout. Numbers won’t help us here, only our wits.”

Rogers nodded. “Stealth will be our main weapon until we can release the captives, but even then we’ll have to rely on speed rather than prowess for success – we can’t take on the whole country, even with all the Tier Five mutants at the Institute on our side.” He pointed towards a road than ran alongside the mountain and past the prison complex. “The main purpose of those forty combatants is transportation – once our team meets with success they’ll have to get roughly eight hundred mutants out of the combat zone and into the countryside. We’ve organized four convoys of ten military-grade trucks each for that task.”

“That sounds impossible,” Peter said, bewildered. “They’ll have satellites on you – how will you just disappear with that many vehicles?”

“Allies planted throughout the countryside, underground safe spots burrowed over the past year and, most importantly, the distraction we’ll be providing at the complex.” Rogers looked at Lehnsherr. “I think they’ll have their hands full, especially with all the chaos that’ll be unfolding in the media.”

Peter wanted to ask what the man meant by that, but he was already continuing the briefing before he had the chance to do so.

“Our team’s purpose is simple – a surgical strike split into three teams: infiltration, combat and defence.” He pointed at a round building connected to the rest of the prison complex. “We drop directly into the command centre and take it over by force. We then lower the prison’s defences, scramble their communications, and release the captives all in one go. The defence team’s mission is to hold that command centre against counterattacks.” He moved his finger to the central prison block nearest to the round building. “The attack team will then help the mutants at the centre-most block – the Tier Three Block – fight against the guards, while all escaping inmates will be directed towards the extraction point at the front entrance through the PA system.”

“And the infiltration team?” Peter was amazed to see Rogers speaking so animatedly about the operation – like he was finally in his element again.

“Just getting to that, sonny.” The soldier pointed at an adjacent section to the main block. “The infiltration team will aid the combat team before splitting off towards the Tier Five Block, to rescue Xavier, Summers, and the three other mutants being held there.”

“Right,” Felicia interjected, “and which team are we in?”

Rogers glanced sideways at Lehnsherr before heaving a small sigh.

“Under normal circumstances I’d never have even put you on this operation, not on such short notice. But nothing about the circumstances is even remotely normal, so…” He folded up the map. “I’m going to need information about your powers in order to know where to best put you to use, but the way I figured it over the past few days is that Spider-Man joins the combat team, while Black Cat stays on the defence team.”

“You want me on defence?”

“Don’t sound so disappointed, it’s as important as any of the other jobs. As it stands, the groups are as follows: Colossus, Nightcrawler and Spider-Man on the combat team, Black Cat and Natasha on the defence team, and me on the infiltration team.”

“Natasha?”

“Natasha Romanoff, an ally from Russia. She’s our main pilot and is watching our ride, you’ll meet her soon enough. Which, incidentally, brings me to a brief rundown of our little group’s role in this mission. See, we have an aircraft hidden upstate – a state-of-the-art vehicle provided by the Brotherhood’s patrons which can elude the army’s radars.”

Peter blinked, surprised. “A stealth aircraft?”

“Yeah.” Rogers sounded oddly proud all of a sudden. “It’s a vehicle that was in its prototypical stages for the US Air Force when it was abandoned. You could say we ‘acquired’ their data and picked it up from there. The aircraft will, with certainty, get us directly to the Institute’s command centre, and from there the plan will unfold as I mentioned with the three teams. Once events are set into motion we call in the extraction trucks while our group departs with Charles Xavier and the other Tier Five mutants.”

A brief silence settled over the room as the former hero finished his debrief and let the couple digest what they had just learnt, though it was quickly broken by Beck speaking up again.

“Heh,” he laughed, leaning back in his chair. “Pretty out of this world, isn’t it?”

“I’ll say,” Peter nodded. “It’s definitely a lot more than I ever thought the Brotherhood was capable of.”

“We’ve got good investors. One in particular-” Beck glanced at Lehnsherr before shrugging lightly. “Let’s just say money isn’t the issue so much as manpower.”

“There are only around four hundred mutants on Genosha so far,” Lehnsherr affirmed. “This operation would go a long way towards our people uniting under one flag.”

“At least until Asteroid M does the rest of its job.”

“Asteroid M?” Peter frowned. “You mean Ueno?”

“Yeah, sorry. Old habits.” Beck smiled sheepishly. “It’s an inside name at Mysterio that we’ve been using ever since it was revealed that it triggered mutant genes in humans.”

 _‘Triggered them? I always thought Ueno caused them.’_ Peter wanted to inquire further on the subject, but opted not to go off on a tangent when he still felt utterly engrossed in the outlined operation. _‘This absolutely sounds like the real deal – pretty much actual warfare between us and the military. Stealth aircrafts, army reinforcements, secret investors – Jesus, how did I get here from fighting muggers in filthy alleys?’_

“It’s indeed as Quentin said,” Lehnsherr spoke up. “An outlandish endeavour, not to mention dangerous and reliant on strict cooperation and complete trust. We might engage the military itself, with all its vast weaponry, and at the end of the day you will most likely be portrayed as terrorists by the media. With all that in mind, can we expect to see you at the meeting point for this operation six days from now?”

“Come on, how many times do you need to ask that?” Felicia smirked.

 _‘Well, in for a penny...’_ Peter nodded. “What can I say? It’s not like ‘terrorist’ is that much worse than ‘Flying Freakshow’, right?”


	6. Chapter 6

The days leading up to the Brotherhood’s rescue operation seemed to alternate in length between excruciatingly slow and startlingly fast. Lehnsherr hadn’t left them with any further information with which to prepare for the mission, claiming that the final details would be provided en route and offering that they simply use the coming week to conserve their strength and determination. He had, however, left them with a post-it note detailing the supposed location of their meeting point at a farmhouse near Newburgh, New York.

Peter and Felicia tried to spend their time up until the day of the operation as normally as they possibly could, though never going so far as acting like nothing was amiss. They regularly did have to bring it up when clearing up their schedules at work and the university respectively, since Steve had claimed that they would be away from the city for seven or more days due to the couple’s return trip most likely being by train to avoid drawing attention. There were still a lot of gaps in the information that had been provided by the Brotherhood – little detail had been given about just how they would get to Wyoming or what their exact roles would be within their respective teams. Rogers had assured them that there would be plenty of time to go over the details, since it would take them at least twelve hours to get to their destination without factoring a stop for rest and refuelling somewhere in Minnesota.

Although the couple tried to fill their free time by watching comedy movies online or generally spending time with each other away from their alter egos, there was a constant current of excitement, anticipation and even a certain degree of fear that grew stronger and stronger with each passing day. Peter could tell that his girlfriend was fiercely looking forward to the operation despite all her misgivings, like she had finally found a way to act upon all the anger and frustration that had been building up within her in regards to the government’s treatment of mutants. While he shared her sentiments to a certain degree, Peter doubted that he could have maintained the resolve to embark on such a surreal paramilitary operation if it hadn’t been for what he had seen and read in Scott and Kitty’s dossiers.

The day before they were set to leave, Peter went out for lunch with Mary Jane and Harry for the first time in several weeks as all their schedules finally cleared up. Even though the meet-up had been organized weeks ago it felt surreal to see his friends practically on the eve of this wild new adventure with the rogue Captain America and mutant freedom fighter Magneto. Even there had been little in Peter’s life that could be described as ‘normal’ ever since being bitten by that spider, seeing his friends in blissful unawareness of what was to come abruptly made him realize the full extent of the insanity he had become embroiled in; somehow, Felicia’s passion and fervour had swept him along and kept him from really taking into account just how out of his depth he was.

In MJ’s case, ‘blissful unawareness’ was quite an overestimation. While Harry couldn’t have even begun to suspect in his wildest dreams what sort of hijinks Peter had been embroiled in over the past year, Mary Jane was well aware of his alter ego and seemed to notice that something was amiss during their lunch. Ever since his hospitalization after the fight with Stark, the redhead had stopped inquiring altogether about his life as Spider-Man and, as the weeks had passed since, had begun to drift further away from him as she devoted herself to her studies. Peter felt remorse over the new distance between them, but was well aware that it was unavoidable; between her worries over his safety, the frustration of sitting on top of a scoop that could make her entire journalism career, and the knowledge that he had begun seeing Felicia only weeks after his stay at the hospital, there was more than enough baggage to warrant some caution. That only made it all the more remarkable that the friendship they had built up had endured through the preceding months and was now even enriched by Harry’s presence and energy.

The young Osborn had truly changed in the months since his visit to Governor’s Island, as if he’d suddenly snapped out of a reverie in which he’d been stuck since his father’s death. Peter wondered if he had finally attained a sense of closure in the wake of SHIELD’s dissolution, since the government had pinned the blame for Banner’s rampage squarely on their incompetence. He seemed to look forward to the future with renewed vigour, and often made summer plans for a group trip to some national park or other so as to finally get a good look at the country beyond New York. Peter sincerely regretted that his first major trip outside the city would be the upcoming journey to Wyoming rather than one of these dream projects.

After the lunch, Peter had felt inclined to give May a call, almost successfully convincing himself that it was just to check up on her and had nothing to do with the vague sense of dread coldly gripping at his gut. It had been a short, pleasant conversation in the course of which they had arranged for a dinner meet at her house the following week. Something about the way in which she looked forward to finally seeing Felicia again after so long calmed Peter’s nerves and cut through all the uncertainty that was nagging at him. _‘We’ve been through so much already – we’ll get through this. One way or another.’_

And then, without pomp or ceremony, the couple awoke around the same time to the morning of their departure. They stayed in bed longer than usual, simply listening in silence to the muted sounds of the city outside as they felt each other’s warmth. Despite all their previous bravado and determination, it was apparently only in each other’s eyes that they finally found the strength to finally get up and face what was to come.

_‘Alright, then. Let’s get this show on the road.’_

Even though Peter and Felicia were experiencing their first significant foray beyond the city limits that wasn’t part of a school or family trip, the train route to Newburgh became monotonous and dull with surprising speed. They tried to pass the time by playing blackjack, having opted to leave their laptops at home so as to bring along as few belongings as possible, but it wasn’t long before it became perfectly clear that losing at cards was not a skill easily allowed by Felicia’s powers. As a result, they settled on simply chatting away as the industrial outskirts of the city began to give way to more and more open fields.

Once they had reached their destination, it only took a short taxi drive to reach the location indicated on the slip of paper that Steve Rogers had handed over to them. Peter double-checked the time and the address multiple times to confirm that they were in the right place as the cab driver indicated the dirt road flanked by trees that led down towards an old orchard. After paying the man and waiting for him to drive off, the couple advanced partway down the path until the main road was nowhere in sight and changed into their alter ego outfits. Peter realized – not for the first time – just what a hassle it was to perform such a tightknit operation while keeping their identities a secret. _‘This heat isn’t helping at all… oh boy, we really didn’t think this through, did we? Are we gonna be in costume all the way to Wyoming? Ohhh boy.’_

The dirt road ended just as the taxi driver had said it would, at a dilapidated-looking old orchard built around an old farmhouse. There was a spectacularly eerie air to the place that brought to mind several of the many slasher films the two of them had watched over the years, to the extent that they were both startled when a red-haired woman in casual streetwear suddenly appeared from around a corner of the farmhouse and made her way towards them. Her hair was close-cropped and shone in the midday sun as she greeted them with a friendly wave.

Judging from the complete lack of shock and outright bewilderment at seeing Spider-Man and Black Cat casually standing on that dirt path, Peter knew for a fact that they were in the right place.

“Aaah, our ‘New York allies’” she said with a slight accent, smiling as she stopped just in front of them. “Nice to finally meet you two. My name’s Natasha Romanoff.” The redhead held out a hand towards them.

“Nice to meet you,” Peter said as he shook her hand, all the while feeling a vague sense of familiarity towards the woman deep in the back of his mind. _‘Maybe I walked by her in the city at some point? I could swear we’d met before.’_

Natasha didn’t seem to share the feeling as she shook Felicia’s hand and nodded for them to follow her.

“Come on, then. Everyone else is already here.”

The woman led them around the farmhouse to its main entrance which, in contrast to its appearance from the dirt road, was well-kept and maintained. The couple cautiously followed her into an old living room made of creaky wood and decorated with decades-old memorabilia, the centre of which had been cleared of its table to allow the entire Brotherhood to stand around checking their gear. All the mutants they had met in that conspiratorial basement, plus Rogers, Beck and Natasha, were present and turned their attention towards the newcomers as they entered the room. Peter noticed that they all wore similar casual streetwear, as if it had all been purchased at the same shop, and suddenly felt wholly out of place in his outfit as he gave an awkward wave.

Lehnsherr, standing out in his tweed coat, excused himself from a conversation with the towering Colossus and made his way over to them with a jovial smile.

“You made it,” he said. “I’m so glad.”

“We said we’d be here,” Felicia reminded him. “There’s no way we were going to back out on this.”

“So you did, and so I see. I’m glad nonetheless.”

Peter nodded. “So, Rogers said we’d leave in the afternoon? From the airport?”

“No, from here.”

“Pardon?”

The leader of the Brotherhood suddenly chuckled. “Of course, you couldn’t know. I’d been looking forward to this moment for some time.” He looked over his shoulder. “Steve, I’ll be right back. I’m going to show our newcomers the Blackbird.”

Rogers, wearing a black turtleneck shirt as he pored over some documents he held, simply nodded quietly in response.

“Follow me, please.”

Magneto led them back out through the farmhouse’s main entrance and towards what looked like an old, oversized barn. The distance to cover was short, but Peter spent the entire time wondering just what kind of aircraft the Brotherhood had smuggled in there which could take them across the country. His worries that it might be some run-down old plane from the Second World War were instantly dispelled as Lehnsherr unlocked the barn door and led them inside.

“Here you have it – the key to our victory and, by extension, Genosha’s future.”

Safely secured squarely in the dim, enormous barn was an odd, pitch-black helicopter of a make Peter had never seen before. It was larger than the one he had hitched a ride on to get to Governor’s Island, and far more angular in its design. The engine compartments near its tail were huge, and the entirety of the vehicle seemed to be made of an odd material wholly unlike metal.

“Wow,” Felicia said, looking it over. “So this is a stealth helicopter?”

Lehnsherr nodded. “That’s right. Have you heard of something like this before?”

“There was an article about them a couple years back in Mysterio where they were described as looking like this.”

“Aha, of course. Quentin was always far ahead of the curve in uncovering the military’s little secrets. Well, we managed to finally acquire one of them.”

Peter touched the surface of the helicopter, confirming that it was made of something more fragile than metal. “How?”

“It was a SHIELD prototype from an abandoned project. In the chaos following the organization’s dismemberment we were able to locate and come by the parts necessary for its construction.” The pride in his voice was evident as he looked up at the helicopter. “We figured out how to get past the hiccups that had caused the project to be shelved, then assembled it here piece by piece. That’s why I came here to New York in the first place, Spider-Man – we couldn’t move the Blackbird far from where we’d initially built it.”

“The Blackbird,” Peter repeated. “This thing can get us all the way to the Xavier Institute?”

“It can, with a layover in Minnesota. It was designed to cover exceptional distances and has a powerful engine for great speed. Most importantly, however, it will keep us completely hidden from sensors of any kind.” He crossed his arms behind his back. “We’ll be able to descend on the Institute’s command centre completely undetected, and then vanish into the horizon without a trace.”

“How long will the trip take?”

“Roughly eight hours to the layover, then another four to the Rockies. Which brings me to an important question.” He suddenly turned to face them both. “Do you intend to make the full journey in those outfits?”

The sudden confrontational query caught Peter by surprise. “We did.”

Lehnsherr looked at Felicia, who seemed equally taken aback by the question, and sighed. “I understand that you want to protect your secret identities, and I would never inquire as to your names. But I ask that you be reasonable.”

“What do you mean by that?” Peter didn’t like the sudden shift in the man’s tone.

“I mean what I said. Do you truly intend to spend the entire journey breathing through your masks? In Minnesota, do you intend to rest in your uniforms? Our accommodations there will hardly be expansive.”

“I…” Peter couldn’t deny that the thought had crossed his mind, but his instinct to maintain his alter ego in the Brotherhood’s presence had overridden it. “Our secret identities are important to us.”

“I’m sure they are,” Lehnsherr said gently, “but you must be realistic in that regard as well. Unless you are both celebrities, I very much doubt that anyone in the Brotherhood will know you amongst the millions of people living in New York. I would never ask you to reveal your names to us, but if you have not recognized any of us already then we will not recognize you. It’s only logical.”

The couple exchanged a glance, both hesitating but unable to deny the good sense in his words.

“What’s more,” the leader of the Brotherhood added, “I must remind you that we are about to descend upon a dangerous government installation as a team. If you were already willing to trust us with your lives in the battle to come, surely you can also trust us with this much.”

There was a moment of silence as Peter looked at Felicia, who finally shrugged and smiled under her balaclava. _‘Well, there really is no arguing with that. I’m not exactly happy about with this many people seeing Spider-Man’s face, but when you sign up for a revolutionary prison breakout…’_ With a quick thought he removed his mask and, for the first time since meeting him, felt the full gaze of Magneto’s icy blue eyes on him.

“You have a way with words,” Peter said as he watched Felicia remove her balaclava and gasp for fresh air.

Lehnsherr smiled. “So I’m told. Thank you for your trust, both of you. You will find that it’s entirely well-placed.” He walked past them towards the exit. “I’ll be heading back to the farmhouse so that we can finalize our departure. You can change into something more comfortable here before you meet up with us there.”

“In here?” Peter looked about the large room. “Not much privacy in here. You seem to assume that Black Cat and I know each other pretty well.”

“Oh, well of course.” The older man smiled as he looked back from the exit. “That much was quite obvious from the moment I first saw you two.”

There was silence in the secret hangar as Lehnsherr closed the door behind him, leaving the interior of the barn merely with the light streaming in through several pane-less windows.

“Cheeky old guy, huh?” Felicia chuckled and removed her hood, shaking her white hair loose.

“Definitely.” The sight of her distinctive hair colour made Peter briefly reconsider the wisdom of letting the Brotherhood see their faces. _‘Ah, screw it. Magneto was right when he said that we’re trusting them with our lives. If we really had such strong doubts we’d never have made it this far.’_

“Honestly, the thought of spending twelve hours in this thing with my mask on was starting to give me an anxiety attack.” She grimaced. “That was pretty weird, though. I’m usually pretty strict about showing my face. Like, religiously so.”

“You’re preaching to the choir,” he said, shrugging. “But he made a lot of good points. So unless his secret mutant power is actually figuring out our names from our faces…”

She snorted as she began unbuckling her gear. “That would be a hilariously bad power. Now come on, Spider-Man, get naked for me.”

“My, but Magneto’s way with words simply pales in comparison with your power of oration…”

Once the couple had changed back into the clothes they had been wearing on their trip to Newburgh they made their way to the farmhouse. None of the mutants inside seemed to react differently upon seeing the two new members of the Brotherhood without their costumes, although Peter did notice that there was something akin to approval in some of their eyes. Rogers certainly didn’t hide his emotions, smiling as he waved them over.

“Looks like Erik convinced you to commit to the team, huh? Glad to see it. Come on over here.” He looked about the room. “Everyone, get closer to the table. One last briefing before we depart.”

As they all approached the table, Peter found himself standing next to the blue-skinned man called Nightcrawler. The youth, clearly around his age, shot him a jovial sharp-toothed grin which he could only sheepishly reply to with a silent nod. They both turned their attention back towards the table as Rogers cleared his throat.

“Well then, this is it. We’ve all come this far together, laying down the groundwork while biding our time one day after another. The stage is set now, and as long as we hold on to the strength and camaraderie that’s brought us to this point we’ll have seen our most important mission through successfully within forty-eight hours.” He looked around the room approvingly. “Some of you I’ve known longer than others, but I can tell you right now with the utmost confidence that we’re about to set events into motion that can only result in our victory, and the realization of our ideals. I believe in you all.”

Peter had nothing to say to the speech, simply nodding his head alongside several of the others as he acknowledged the sudden onset of confidence building within him. _‘Honestly, in what world would I ever have even dreamed that I’d hear Captain America give me a pep talk? Uncle Ben, if you could only be here…’_

“Thank you, Steve.” Lehnsherr patted the war hero on the shoulder as he looked at them all in turn. “My sentiments echo yours exactly. As much as this nation has stacked the odds against us, we have something they never will: righteousness. Our cause, our goals, our very actions are just and therefore they grant us a strength unlike any that they can throw at us. All the pieces are in place for this, our greatest moment, and whatever we may encounter at the Institute will be but flint and tinder for the revolution that will set ablaze the status quo. Mankind and mutankind are both depending on us, and it is for this very reason that we cannot fail.”

“Hear, hear,” Colossus called out in a thick accent as he slapped Nightcrawler on the shoulder. Beck had begun to clap enthusiastically on his own, but stopped when Magneto turned his attention towards him.

“Quentin,” the leader of the Brotherhood said. “Without your help, we would never have been able to achieve any of this. You harboured us in the lion’s den, got our cause in touch with Fury, and helped us acquire the Blackbird as we see it now. Make no mistake: your triumph will be as great as ours, even as you remain here to cover our tracks.”

Peter observed Beck as the man blushed at the praise being heaped on him. He had doubted from the start that the reporter would be going along on such a dangerous mission, but he suddenly felt a pang of regret that he had not taken more time to talk with the bearded man due to having judged him by the ridiculous content of Mysterio. He sincerely hoped that he would get a chance to do so upon his return to New York.

“Well then,” Lehnsherr said, clasping his hands together. “A long trip awaits us, so we’ll use our time aboard the Blackbird to continue making preparations. Let us be off, brothers and sisters – it’s time for us to make history.”

It seemed like the Brotherhood had loaded their supplies onto the helicopter before Peter and Felicia had arrived at the farmstead, since they all headed towards the barn with small bags and rucksacks. Nightcrawler suddenly disappeared in the blink of an eye, leaving behind only a small cloud of smoke as he reappeared on the barn’s rooftop, where he was soon thereafter joined by Rogers after he had, more traditionally, made his way up using a ladder.

“It’s like I thought,” Felicia said, looking up at the pair as they made their way around to the back of the rooftop. “The ceiling on that thing is coming off for our departure. This just gets better and better.”

Inside the barn, Colossus seemed to be measuring up the best way to fit into the Blackbird without hitting his head, and by the time he had found a spot on one of the interior’s twin rows of seats the barn’s rooftop had essentially slid apart, bathing the area below in sunlight. The couple sat together next to the giant man near the rear of the helicopter, while Lehnsherr sat as close to the cockpit as possible alongside Emma a dozen seats away. When Nightcrawler and Rogers finally entered after finishing their task they opted to sit near the back, just opposite Peter and Felicia, before Natasha followed them in as the last occupant. The redhead slid the door shut and made her way to the cockpit, where she began the take-off procedure.

A strange sense of apprehension filled Peter as he heard and felt the helicopter rumbling to life, and despite her best efforts to maintain a poker face Felicia was also showing signs of discomfort as she pressed herself closer to him. Rogers seemed to notice both their reactions and flashed one of his rare smiles in an attempt to calm them down. Peter tried to return the smile, wondering whether or not he should have told anyone beforehand that neither he nor Felicia had ever actually been in an aircraft before.

Within seconds, the Blackbird had cleared the barn and was ascending higher and higher up into the sky. Glancing over his shoulder out one of the windows, Peter could make out Beck waving at them from the central grounds of the farmstead before the aircraft rose silently into the clouds and obscured the reporter from sight. Leaning back in his seat, he took a slow breath as he focused his sight on the ceiling. _‘Well, at least it’ll be a whole lot more comfortable than my last helicopter ride.’_

The Blackbird dipped its nose so gently that barely anyone inside even felt the aircraft setting off westwards.


	7. Chapter 7

It was a short while after Felicia threw up into a sickbag, some thirty minutes into the flight, that Peter finally mustered up the courage to speak with Steve Rogers in an attempt to avert a similar fate. He leaned forward slightly, careful not to disturb Felicia as she rested her head against his shoulder to catch her breath, and nodded to catch the man’s attention. The Winter Soldier immediately nodded back and similarly leaned down; although the interior of the helicopter was soundproof enough that they didn’t require headphones and a mic to communicate there was enough loud thrumming from without that the shorter distance allowed them to speak more quietly.

“So, uh, Mr. Rogers…” Peter immediately winced at what he had just said and even in her weakened state Felicia snorted against his shoulder. “I mean, Captain – uh, Winter Soldier…”

“Just Steve is fine,” the blonde man said. “We’re all in on this together, after all.”

“Right, okay.” Peter felt a sliver of guilt at not giving his own name in reply. “I didn’t get the chance to say this before but, um, it really is such an honour to work alongside you.”

The war hero nodded, seemingly unfazed by the praise. “I’ve been getting that a lot ever since waking up.”

“You mean in Genosha?”

“Yeah. Most of the people that said so weren’t even Americans, so that was all the more surprising.”

“You’re famous all over the globe.”

“Well, back in my day I was fighting more for the USA than the whole world.” He smiled thinly. “Guess that’s become totally reversed, huh?”

“Your English,” Felicia piped up from Peter’s shoulder. “For someone from the forties you speak modern English perfectly.”

“Thank you. I’m a fast learner, and had a lot of incentive to catch up in that regard. Though some flaws slip through here and there.” He shifted himself somewhat closer to them. “How are you feeling, Black Cat?”

“Not great. But better.”

“That’s good to hear. We can give you some sleeping pills later, to make the trip easier on you.”

“I wouldn’t mind some, too,” Peter said. “I’ve never been on a long trip like this before.”

“Really?” For the first time, Steve Rogers grinned at them. “To think I got saw more of the world than you kids with all your globalization.”

“We haven’t been sent off on missions across Europe to fight the Nazis yet, so…”

“Fair point. I remember my first time on a plane…” He chuckled at the memory. “I vomited all over my shield. That one left a good impression on my boys.”

Peter laughed, unable to even picture the scene. “You mean your famous shield? The round one?”

“The one I got from the OSS, yeah.”

“What happened to it?” He looked around at the back of the helicopter, where all their gear was stored. “Do you have it here?”

“No, I’m afraid not.” Rogers grimaced. “It wasn’t on me when I was frozen. Erik tells me the CIA’s got it in storage somewhere.” He shrugged. “No point getting too sentimental about things like that. Besides, I got a new one back there.”

“A new one?”

“Yeah. I didn’t really use it in Berlin or London, but it looks about the same, except for the red star in the middle. I got it from our Russian benefactors – guess it was a sense of irony or nostalgia that made them put it there.”

“How do you mean?”

“For the Soviet Union.” He shrugged again. “I was on ice when they rose and fell, so it’s hard for me to judge. I can’t say I mind either way, since those were the folks that helped wake me up.”

Peter nodded, realizing that it was a rough topic. Still, he felt grateful when Felicia asked the question that had been on his lips for several minutes.

“Can you tell us about your last mission? When you were frozen?” She sat up somewhat, clearly having recovered more of her composure. “We know so little about it from school, and most of that was probably made up.”

Rogers nodded, not seeming to mind. “What did they tell you about it?”

“We always heard you were sent to stop the Nazis from building nuclear weapons at some secret site in Norway, which then blew up. The books all said you died there.” She smiled. “Though in the cartoon show you lose your memory and get married in Paris.”

The blonde man chuckled. “I always liked the idea of getting married in Paris.”

“Yeah, we all preferred that version as kids.”

“So do I, trust me.” He leaned back and took a deep breath. “But it wasn’t quite like you were taught. I was sent to investigate a weapons lab in northern Norway; that much is true. But there were no nuclear weapons or anything of the sort there.”

Peter nodded, grateful to be hearing his side of the story. “You went in alone?”

“Yeah. I did every now and then, though I always preferred to go with my team.”

“And what happened there?”

“It’s kind of a blur, to be perfectly honest.” He frowned slightly. “My cover was blown, so I chose to take them on. It was a small base, built into the side of a glacier, no more than thirty Germans there. After that it was the usual fare; shoot, run, hit them with the shield. I went through the motions so often that it’s hard to recall the specifics.”

“Right…”

“But I remember I was in some kind of lab when the whole place started coming down. There was ice everywhere, I think the glacier was falling apart, but we were still shooting our guns. Trying to kill each other…” He seemed engrossed in his own recounting. “Then a grenade went off and a gas or liquid filled the whole room… that’s the last thing I remember from back then.”

“God,” Peter said. “I’m sorry…”

“Don’t worry about it.” Rogers shook his head, as if discarding the memories. “I’m at peace with the story now. It’s what happened after that still makes my blood boil.” He took a deep breath. “I heard they found four Nazis frozen in that room with me. I still wonder what happened to them; Stark told me they were killed off, but that’s just what he heard…”

“Stark?” Peter couldn’t help but wonder if he’d heard right, and Felicia sat up straight in her seat. “Tony Stark?”

Rogers opened his mouth to reply, but after a moment dropped his head slightly. “Oh, damn.”

“What does Stark have to do with you?” Peter looked down the passenger hold at Lehnsherr sitting by the cockpit. “What does he have to do with the Brotherhood?”

“I know you were Tony Stark’s enemy, Spider-Man.” Rogers seemed to have again adopted a more professional demeanour as he raised a hand to calm him. “That’s why I wanted to give you a chance to get to know us before I mentioned him to you.”

“Well, I’m all ears now.”

The Winter Soldier looked at each of them in turn before taking a deep breath. “Tony Stark is Genosha’s greatest benefactor.”

“Oh, Christ…”

“Just… please listen carefully.” Rogers seemed to be picking every word carefully. “Stark had been working against SHIELD from the inside ever since he joined them. He set up the whole operation to get me out of US custody…”

“…by using me as a distraction?”

“Yes. It was the only way-”

Peter was on the verge of spitting out a resort when Felicia beat him to the punch.

“That fucker made Peter go through hell for his little ploy,” she hissed, her airsickness now seemingly forgotten. “So you’ll forgive us if we don’t want to extend an olive branch to him.”

“I’m not asking you to, I’m merely explaining his actions.”

“Oh please,” she snapped back, ignoring the surprised looks from Nightcrawler and Colossus. “Tony Stark beat the shit out of me because it factored into his grand plan to rescue you? The same reason for which he burnt a scar into Peter’s chest?”

“I- I’m sorry for that.” Despite his own anger, Peter couldn’t help but feel bad for Steve Rogers as the man’s shoulders sagged in genuine remorse. “I never knew that all this would happen for my sake…”

“You have nothing to apologize for,” the white-haired girl said, finally taking the edge off her voice. “I’m just making it as clear as possible that Tony Stark is a sadistic bastard _and_ a double agent, not just the latter.”

Peter nodded. “We understand what you’re saying. But I remember what I saw and heard while fighting Stark.” He almost shuddered at the memory. “That man isn’t well in the head.”

“You might be right.” Rogers raised his palms disarmingly. “All I’m saying, however, is that ever since then Stark has been channelling all his wealth towards Genosha and the mutant cause. He’s the one who made this mission possible by leaking the Blackbird data and crippling SHIELD, and he’s even putting himself at risk to ensure its success…”

“How? How’s he involved in this mission?”

Rogers opened his mouth to speak, but his body language screamed that he had said far more than he had intended on the subject. Felicia shifted in her seat, seemingly gearing up to press him on the matter.

They were all surprised when Nightcrawler, who had been listening to the heated exchange with a fascinated look, suddenly spoke up for the first time since meeting the couple.

“Tony Stark will make a public appearance the moment before the mission starts,” the blue-skinned youth said in a thick and nigh-comical German accent. “To distract US media, intelligence, and confuse our enemies…”

“Kurt!” Rogers hissed, only a moment later catching his own faux pas.

“What harm is there in them knowing?”

“It’s… it’s a very delicate situation. It’s a big gamble, and we could lose Stark if it gets out.”

“Well,” Colossus rumbled from beside Felicia in a similarly thick accent, “sounds to me like Stark deserves the risk.” Nightcrawler nodded emphatically at the statement.

The Winter Soldier seemed to be at a loss over the unanimous attack, and simply sighed. “Look, I thought it was for the best to compartmentalize information on the eve of a global operation. As for Stark’s involvement with the Brotherhood, I think you’ll want to talk with Erik about that.”

“I will,” Peter said, the anger now largely gone from his system. “As soon as we get to Minnesota.”

“I trust this doesn’t affect your motivation to go ahead with the mission?”

“No,” he snapped quickly. “This is still about my friends, and all mutants. There’s far more to it than just Stark.”

“I’m glad to hear that. If it’s any consolation, Stark sounded truly regretful every time he spoke of his actions in New York.”

“Hah!” Colossus suddenly leaned forward with a grin. “If regret for bad decisions were money he could almost have recovered his fortune by now.”

“Can I just…” Felicia sat up straight in her seat and looked at the large man beside her. “There’s something I’ve been wanting to tell you for a while now, um, Colossus?”

“Please, my name is Piotr Rasputin.”

“That’s a cool name. Have you heard of Arnold Schwarzenegger?”

“Of course.”

“Has anyone ever told you that you look exactly like Arnold in his prime?” She was suddenly grinning as she elbowed Peter lightly. “Right? Like 1986 Arnold.”

“Uh, yeah.” Peter felt slightly jarred by the sudden shift in tone from the previous heated conversation, but could appreciate that the mood in the helicopter had quickly relaxed back to normal. “Yeah, you really do.”

Piotr blinked, then looked up as if pondering something, before grinning widely.

“That,” the large man said jovially, “is probably the best thing anyone has ever said to me.”

The long flight stopped seeming so daunting to Peter as the two previously-quiet mutants joined in on the conversation more and more animatedly. In particular the blue-skinned mutant, who had introduced himself as Kurt Wagner, seemed eager to talk to what he saw as two American mutants who had managed to evade the Xavier Institute while continuing to act publically and in defiance of their enemies.

“You are probably the most famous mutant of all, Spider-Man,” he was saying with a hint of reverence. “The first to appear, and the first to be accepted by the public. You inspired us all.”

“I don’t know about that…” Peter tried to downplay the embarrassment he felt over the sudden praise. “I’m sure mutants would’ve let themselves be known with or without me.”

“I don’t know about that,” the youth said, blinking his amber eyes. “I was always at home after my change. Scared. Ashamed. When I saw you on the news, I showed myself to my family and friends.”

“And promptly got yourself reported and arrested,” chuckled Piotr. “Though you’re not wrong. I hesitated as well before seeing him on the news.”

“Hold on,” Felicia said, looking at Kurt. “You were arrested? Captured?”

“Yeah. There were no laws about mutants in Germany, but American soldiers came to my house one day with the police, took me to the embassy. They kept me there… in a nasty cell. It wasn’t nice.”

“So that’s why you stormed the embassy in Berlin,” she looked at Rogers. “To get him out. I hear you broke a lot of bones there.”

The Winter Soldier simply shrugged. “In my defence, I had _a lot_ of anger to deal with right after waking up. I might have gone too far with a few of those Marines.”

“No,” Kurt quickly shook his head. “You got me out, saved me. Like a true hero. That’s why I want to do the same for our brothers and sisters here.”

“I gotta ask,” Peter looked at both mutants in turn. “Were either of you in the United States after the meteorite fell?”

“I wasn’t,” Piotr. “I’ve only ever been to Europe before.”

“Same here,” Kurt nodded. “Why?”

“It’s just…” Peter looked for the right words with which to explain himself. “I was thinking about what Beck said when he called Ueno Asteroid M. He said that the meteorite didn’t cause mutations, but triggered them.”

“Aha,” Piotr laughed. “You’re finally having the thought that every mutant in Genosha has to have: was I born like this, or made like this?”

“I guess I am,” he said, glancing at Felicia. “I’d never really thought about it before, but if mutants are showing up who’ve never been to the East Coast...”

“I always assumed it was all bullshit,” the cat burglar nodded, her airsickness now appearing to be wholly cured. “If Skyfucker had really caused mutations with radiation or whatever, then why would only a few people display their powers years later? Why not everyone on the East Coast, or in the world?”

“There’s still a lot we don’t know about Ueno,” Rogers piped in cautiously, “but it seems almost certain that whatever it brought down with it triggered mutations that had always been there amongst some humans, but lay dormant. The government claims that mutations were caused because it’s easier narrative to feed people than admitting that anyone could be a potential mutant, since that would make it harder to outright hate them.” He shook his head slowly. “It’s sickening to see what has become of this nation.”

“That’s why we need Genosha,” Kurt added, unintentionally cutting off Felicia before she could reply to the Winter Soldier. “A home for our kind to live in peace and without fear. Where there is no preju… prejui…”

“Prejudice,” Piotr said, nodding. “A home to call our own.”

“How can you pull that off in 2006?” Felicia sounded truly invested as she asked the question. “It’s not like we can just claim a strip of land to call our nation in this day and age.”

“That’s why we’re _making_ that land,” Rogers said with emphasis. “Genosha rises from the sea even as we speak, and that’s all thanks to Stark’s money. The country might have to call Norway its suzerain for a while, but we’re rapidly making progress towards ensuring its future independence.”

Peter mastered the urge to protest the billionaire’s importance, opting to simply think on Piotr’s words. _‘A land without fear, a place to live in peace? Sounds like paradise.’_

Kurt almost seemed to read his mind as he leaned forward with another amber-eyed stare. “You should come with us when this is all over. Both of you.”

“What do you mean?” Felicia asked. “Move to Genosha?”

“Yes. Why not?” The idea seemed to excite the blue-skinned mutant. “You have been hiding in such a dangerous city for so long, but in Genosha you would live in peace.”

Piotr chuckled at the young man’s enthusiasm and turned to face them. “It really is a nice place, don’t be fooled. A bit cold, yes, but green, lush, fertile. Peaceful.”

“I… um.” Felicia suddenly sat up straight and avoided meeting her boyfriend’s gaze. “It really does sound like a nice place.”

Kurt was nodding so vigorously that he didn’t notice the shift in Peter’s eyes, or the fact that they widened ever so slightly in surprise. Rogers, however, read his reaction like an open book.

“Well then, Spider-Man,” the soldier drawled. “Your special lady wants to move out of the country. Quite a dilemma.”

Peter frowned slightly. “So you noticed.”

“That you’re a couple? Could anyone here not have?” He looked about the helicopter, eliciting nods from Kurt and Piotr. “I think it was obvious the moment a masked hero and a cat burglar showed up at Beck’s house side by side. It really is quite adorable, but that’s not really what we were talking about, is it?”

 _‘Now would be a really good time for a little privacy.’_ Peter looked deeply into Felicia’s eyes for a long moment before nodding. “I guess it’s something we’ll need to have a talk about soon.”

Rogers seemed satisfied with the answer, but Kurt clearly only felt more confused. “Why? What’s there to think about?”

“Well…” He felt unsure of how to word his answer. “I just guess moving out is a big step.”

“I’m sure your family would understand.”

“No, I mean, I’m sure they would, but…” Peter took a deep breath. “There are still lots of people in the city that need my help, you know?”

“Hmm.” Piotr shifted in his seat. “You would say that even though so many hate you?”

“I guess. Yeah.”

“Why?”

“Because…” The words came to him almost automatically. “Because I have the power to help them, so I see it as my responsibility to do so.”

“Aaaah,” the large man drawled, as if dawning upon a great truth. “An altruist. You poor thing.”

“I don’t know if I’d call myself that…”

“You wouldn’t?” The Russian smiled wryly. “Then perhaps ‘martyr’ is more appropriate? Especially since they will only hate you more in the coming days.”

“How do you mean?”

“Isn’t it obvious?” Rogers leaned forward on his knees, his blue eyes staring intently into Peter’s. “After this mission, the government will label you a terrorist. They might even publish photos or videos of you beating up prison guards and helping mutants escape the Savage Land. You’ll be reviled by the police, by the media, and by most of the public you feel such responsibility for. People won’t cheer you on from the streets anymore; instead, they’ll call in a whole squad of cops, perhaps even the military. What will you do then?”

“I’ll cross that bridge when I get there. Besides, maybe it won’t actually come to that.”

“Now, that just sounds like silliness to me. Rather, idiocy.”

_‘Wow, he really doesn’t pull any punches, does he?’_

Peter was about to reply when Felicia, once again, rushed to his defence. “Lay off. It’s not like we haven’t thought about that already.”

“Oh, really? So, have you come up with a sound way to keep the entire city of New York from hating your boyfriend’s guts three days from now?” He seemed oddly intent to prove his point. “You might not have to worry about your image, Black Cat, but Spider-Man will be reviled precisely _because_ many will see his actions as a betrayal of his heroism.”

Felicia seemed slightly taken aback by the intensity of his words, but didn’t back down. She turned to look at Peter and shrugged. “Might as well tell them our grand plan now.”

Rogers raised an eyebrow. “Grand plan?”

Peter sighed, leaning back in his seat. “I can change my suit’s appearance at will. The idea was to change it to the polar opposite of how it looks now. It’ll still obviously be me, Spider-Man, during the operation. But it might create just enough plausible deniability that the government can’t sic the army and the police on me.”

“Ah.” The Winter Soldier nodded. “Well, that does make some sense.”

“And like I said, we’ll test the waters after that and see what happens…”

“Hold on, hold on,” Kurt raised a three-digited hand. “What do you mean about changing your suit at will?”

 _‘Ah hell.’_ Peter had feared that he would have to explain the exact properties of the suit to the other mutants just as he had to Rogers – or at least the version which he had deemed most easily-understandable. _‘Well, there’s no harm in it as long as they don’t ask for a demonstration.’_

“My suit,” he said calmly, “is an extension of my powers. It’s not actually fabric, I can make it appear from my body. It’s organic.”

“What?!” Kurt’s strange eyes widened. “That’s awesome!”

“I’m sorry,” Piotr said, leaning forward to look at him while shaking his head. “I don’t really understand how you can make it appear. Could you show us?”

_‘Was there ever any doubt?’_

Peter nodded nonchalantly and, with a thought, summoned the entire suit up under his clothes, including its mask. He saw Magneto and Emma looking over at them as Kurt and Piotr made varying sounds of surprise and wonder, and even Steve Rogers seemed impressed as he observed the change from up close. _‘Man, at times like these I’m glad this mask does such a good job of hiding embarrassment. Good grief.’_

“If I may,” Rogers finally spoke up, “I would like to see this new suit of yours.”

“Uh, sure. No problem.” Peter looked over at Felicia, who had helped him come up with the idea and the design, and quickly removed his t-shirt. Then, with a simple thought, he inverted all the colours on his suit so that the black sections became white and vice versa. Although he’d felt like the change was subtle at best and on the nose at worst, the blonde soldier seemed impressed by it.

“Well, your image might just make it through this ordeal in one piece after all, Spider-Man. It’s a long shot, but who knows? Maybe the press could spin it as your evil twin or something like that.”

“Man, what?” Kurt was carefully scrutinizing the changed costume, as if having a difficult time believing his own eyes. “And you can then just make it disappear into your skin?”

“Something like that.”

“Can I see?”

By this point, Peter felt like the attention on his suit was more of an embarrassment than a nuisance but still opted to indulge the young mutant’s curiosity. He had half-expected the ensuing silence after he removed the suit and the mask, having thought that the sight of the process might gross them out. To his surprise, however, the two mutants and the soldier were staring at his shirtless chest, with particular focus on the large round scar dominating it.

“That’s the scar you mentioned?” The Winter Soldier didn’t take his eyes off the injury for even a moment as he spoke in an oddly-altered tone. “The one caused by Stark?”

Peter nodded, reaching for his shirt. “Yeah.”

Piotr finally tore his gaze away and swore in Russian. Kurt kept looking at the spot where the scar was even after Peter had put his shirt back on.

“Jesus,” Rogers finally said, looking down at the floor. “I’m sorry, Spider-Man.”

“Hey, like I said, you have nothing to apologize for.” _‘Man, I really should’ve thought things through a little more before showing off the suit.’_

It took a long while after that for their conversations to once again reach the level of liveliness they had enjoyed before, and even then there was something oddly different in the way the Winter Soldier looked at Peter up until the moment they landed in Minnesota hours later.

The location that had been chosen for their brief sojourn before beginning the final stage of their journey strongly resembled the Blackbird’s place of origin: an isolated farmstead in the middle of nowhere enjoying an oversized barn that doubled as a hiding place for the stealth helicopter. The only difference was that in this case the farmstead was far from dilapidated or abandoned, as they were received by a couple of local residents who were sympathetic to the Brotherhood’s cause. The freedom fighters were offered an expansive dinner and full use of the property’s showers, as well as comfortable beds and sofas upon which they could sleep off the weariness of the long trip in anticipation of what was to come. Even though they never told them their names and seemed to speak exclusively with Magneto, everyone saw the pair as a true godsend; it was doubtful that any of the mutants could have been much use in a fight if they had been dropped into the Savage Land after twelve hours of uninterrupted air travel.

Peter was watching the sun set from a hill by the homestead that overlooked the countryside as he waited for Felicia to finish her shower, his hands tucked into his pants’ pockets to shield them from the cool breeze. A variety of birds could be heard calling it a day in the distance, and the cold air smelled utterly pure in the absence of any nearby roads or towns.

_‘Here you are, Peter Parker, smack-dab in Minnesota after waking up in Queens. Can’t say I imagined myself here at any point this year, but I guess that just goes to show how well most of my plans go.’_

He glanced over his shoulder at the sound of footsteps in time to see Rogers making his way up the hill, his turtleneck shirt somehow fitting the scenery perfectly.

“Beautiful, isn’t it?” The man stood beside him as he regarded the quiet countryside sprawling all the way to the horizon, which was now coated in a vague golden hue.

“Yeah.” Peter nodded. “It really is.”

“I always liked this state. I was last here in thirty-nine... in Minneapolis.”

“With friends?”

“No.” Rogers was quiet for a second as he crossed his arms over his chest. “With Peggy.”

Peter chided himself inwardly for his careless question, remembering how the man’s sweetheart had died while waiting for him to return home. “Sorry.”

“Don’t be.” There was fondness rather than bitterness in the soldier’s voice as he gazed across the green fields before them. “Driving from town to town, holding picnics wherever we felt like… it was wonderful. We travelled across the nation, and there isn’t a single memory from that trip that makes me feel anything but joy. It was all… so beautiful.”

“Sounds like it was a great trip.”

“It was our last before the war started.” Rogers looked down at the ground briefly before turning his gaze towards him. “After that, I lost the woman I loved and the country that I’d fought so hard to preserve. The one thing I have left is the will to fight for a just cause… and I’m sure as hell not giving up on that.”

Peter nodded. “Sometimes, that’s all you need to keep on fighting against all odds.”

“Maybe you and I understand each other a lot better than I’d thought,” the blonde man said, smiling sadly. “Which is why I want you to know everything about what will happen tomorrow… including the parts I’m not supposed to tell you about.”

“What do you mean?” He glanced over his shoulder, suddenly wary that Lehnsherr might somehow be listening to them. “Is there more to this operation than I’ve been told?”

“No, you know the plan’s broad strokes in their entirety. But Erik thought it best to keep the specifics of my own mission to myself. After some thought, I’ve come to disagree with that his conclusion.”

Peter nodded, and the Winter Soldier took a deep breath.

“My job is to infiltrate the Tier Five Block to extract Charles Xavier and the other mutants being held there. That much you know. How I plan to do so, however, indirectly concerns you.”

“Me?”

“Yes. Or at least a friend of yours.” His gaze was hard and sincere as the night loomed above the farmstead. “This entire plan came into being when our agent at the Xavier Institute made contact with Kitty Pryde and discovered a hidden aspect to her powers. Only she can make the operation possible.”

“Kitty?” Peter was surprised by the sudden revelation. “How does she factor into it all?”

“Even though her powers were labelled as Tier Four and deemed unfit for experimentation, Ms. Pryde’s ability to dematerialize – which is to say, she can move through solid matter – makes her the only one who can get into the Tier Five Block without authorization, so long as the collar suppressing her powers is removed.”

Peter remembered reading about Kitty’s powers in the dossier they had stolen from Jameson’s penthouse, but the language describing them had been too obtuse to really give a proper idea of what they were.

“What the doctors at the Xavier Institute don’t know is that Ms. Pryde can extend her powers onto others through physical contact,” Rogers continued. “That means that she can get me into the Tier Five Block once its automatic lockdown is in place.”

“So when you mean she factors directly into your plans…”

“Yeah.” The blonde man nodded. “We can’t pull this off without her. That’s why we have to pull this off tomorrow – if they find out how she can use her powers, I fear that they might opt to execute her in order to remove the security flaw.”

“So that means you’ll be taking her with you into the thick of it.” Peter frowned. “Tired and hurt as she might be from her time in the Savage Land.”

“That’s right. Knowing that she’s your friend, I felt like you were entitled to at least this information.”

The sun had almost set completely beyond the horizon. Glancing up, Peter could see a vast ocean of stars filling the night sky above. _‘If only we could look up at a sight like this from Queens.’_

“Scott’s in the Tier Five Block, isn’t he?”

“That’s right. He’s the only mutant in there that we know by name, other than Xavier.”

“In that case, you needn’t have worried, Steve.” Peter smiled thinly as he looked back at the war hero. “Kitty will go in there with or without you.”

The next morning, the members of the rescue operation were up and about long before the sun had even crested the horizon. They had a solemn little breakfast alongside the couple that was housing them and were all aboard the Blackbird by four in the morning. Despite the early hour, there wasn’t any sign of tiredness in their eyes as they took their seats in the helicopter.

Peter and Felicia were in their usual costumes, though the former bore the proposed modification that had been approved by Lehnsherr. They were both the first to enter the aircraft and quietly held one another’s hands to calm their frayed nerves. They hadn’t yet covered their faces so as to make the trip as comfortable as possible, so the dread anticipation was painfully obvious to see as the moment of departure approached minute by minute.

Steve and Natasha were next to enter the aircraft, both wearing black military outfits that were surprisingly matching in appearance, down to the red stars adorning their shoulders. Countless little satchels and pockets covered their heavy-duty uniforms, as well as a wealth of utilities such as knives, grappling hooks, and even tonfas. The blonde man nodded at the couple as he passed them to retrieve his aforementioned red-starred shield, testing his grip on it with a look of fierce determination. He seemed completely distinct from his appearance after waking up that morning, when he’d spent a long time before breakfast silently praying by his bed.

When Magneto and his Brotherhood of Mutants finally joined them in the Blackbird they were already donning matching outfits of dark blue and yellow contrasted in a V pattern, a unique colour scheme which Kurt had explained was designed to disconcert their enemies. Seemingly made out of some sort of lightweight armour that largely resembled spandex, the tailor-made uniforms were prototypes provided by Stark which could purportedly protect them from blunt force trauma and cuts; Peter had not wanted to ask how well they could hold up against gunfire.

After Lehnsherr shut the sliding door shut behind him the interior of the helicopter was cast into a grim darkness where no-one dared say a word.

As before, there wasn’t so much as a rattle from the vehicle as it quietly ascended into the pre-dawn skies above.


	8. Chapter 8

As the Blackbird swiftly pursued its journey westwards it seemed to continuously stave off the dawn, to the extent that a penumbral darkness still reigned within its hold as it finally ventured into the skies above Wyoming. The timing of their operation was particularly tricky – the Savage Land was more heavily guarded at night than during the day, but Magneto had still wanted to approach under the cover of darkness, leaving only a few hours during which the facility would be both lightly-guarded and cast in shadows. Natasha seemed to have kept them right on schedule to attain the window of opportunity, but Peter was nonetheless having trouble keeping all the proverbs he’d heard before about best-laid plans out of his mind.

Looking out the window by his head, he could just make out the jagged chain of behemoth fangs against the horizon that were the Rocky Mountains. Peter recalled how often his uncle had spoken of one day visiting those peaks with him and Aunt May, followed by a road trip down to the Grand Canyon. _‘I don’t think you could ever have imagined the circumstances under which I’d end up here, Uncle Ben… but I don’t think you’d disapprove.’_

Natasha’s voice suddenly resounded across the hold as she spoke through the built-in speakers. “Twenty minutes to the destination. Allied units are already on the move.”

“This is it,” Lehnsherr said from his seat next to Steve, having grouped the entire team together for the last leg of the trip. “Is everyone ready?”

Peter and Felicia nodded as they pulled on their respective masks, and the rest of the group similarly assented. Magneto looked at each of them in turn for a moment before finally pressing a button on the earpiece in his right ear and pulling the microphone on his neckline closer to his mouth.

“Comms check,” the leader of the Brotherhood said softly, though the words sounded loud enough in Peter’s earpiece that they might as well have been spoken in a loud voice. “Everyone receiving this?”

One by one all the members of the operation, including Natasha, spoke a reply that served both to affirm the question and test out their own mics. Once Lehnsherr was satisfied with the result he leaned back in his seat and addressed the entire team through the comms system.

“We’ve been through this, but let me repeat it: it’ll be chaos down there and there’s no way to attune these things by channel, so it’s for the good of the whole operation that you only talk into the comms when necessary, by pressing the button on your earpiece. Let’s keep things professional.”

Peter didn’t miss the cheeky glance that Felicia threw his way, but opted not to react to it.

“It might be hard to imagine now,” Lehnsherr continued, “but our teams will lose sight of each other within minutes, and as you focus on the tasks and fights at hand you might even lose track of your own location. So a quick review for you to keep in mind, lest you ask: Emma and I will be aboard the Blackbird, Black Cat and Natasha will guard the command centre. The combat team will move around the central prison blocks, and Steve will head directly for the Tier Five Block. As soon as he recovers all the Tier Five mutants and the rest of the inmates have been directed towards the main exit the latter two teams will join up and meet up with the defence team. After that, it’s just a matter of getting out of there.”

No-one said anything in response to his outline, which seemed to be the exact sort of reaction that Magneto had been hoping for as he continued his pep talk.

“Make no mistake, even the best-laid plans can go awry. But we’ve done a damn fine job with this one, so as long as you can emerge victorious from your personal battles we will see this through one way or another. When I think of it like that…” The grey-haired man suddenly grinned fiercely. “Glorified policemen charged with guarding some of the most powerful individuals on Earth for a pitiable salary – I just don’t see how we could lose to something like that. Not today, not ever. The command centre _will_ fall and the suppression collars _will_ be negated; the rest is up to you.”

Peter nodded emphatically alongside Felicia and the other mutants, Lehnsherr’s words clearly having had an immediate positive effect on their morale. Despite the suffocating fear raging within him he _knew_ that he and Felicia could take on whatever they encountered down there, especially in light of the challenges they had faced before. _‘Come on, Peter Parker. You’ve taken down both the Brooklyn Abomination and Iron Man. What could they possibly throw at you that could come anywhere close to those fights?’_

“Peter,” Felicia whispered by his side after some time, snapping him out of his reverie. “Look.”

Following her gaze, Peter looked out the window and subsequently felt a cold pit in his stomach. Nestled against the mountainside below them and growing closer by the second lay a sprawling facility of large concrete buildings lit up by dozens of spotlights and surrounded on all sides by tall fences flanked by guard towers. _‘Yeah, that definitely looks like what someone would call the Savage Land. That, or the local Wyoming Summer School…’_

The smooth descent of the Blackbird almost gave off the impression that the Xavier Institute was rising up to devour them. Turning towards Felicia, Peter held her hand firmly and touched her forehead with his, not caring who was watching. _‘Hell, I’d kiss her right now if I could…’_

“Good luck,” the cat burglar whispered, not breaking away. “I’d give you some of mine, but…”

“Heh,” Peter laughed nervously. “I’m sure you already have. Either way, we’ll make it through this.”

“Five minutes,” Natasha called through the comms, startling the couple. “Stark just began his speech in Oslo. Get ready to disembark.”

“Colossus, you’re up,” Lehnsherr said, pointing towards the stealth helicopter’s aft door. “Come on, you know what to do.”

“I’ve been looking forward to this,” the large man rumbled, giving the couple a reassuring nod as he passed them.

“Nightcrawler, you follow.”

“Right, right.” The German youth similarly smiled sheepishly as he passed the others in the back and stood poised for action behind Piotr.

Minutes became seconds.

“Now!” Natasha’s yell was urgent, excited. “Go, go, go!”

Magneto slid the door wide open to a world of metal, concrete and lights.

“Kitty! Come on, wake up, girl!”

“Whuh?” After a second of sluggishness, Kitty sprang up in her bed at the sight of McCoy kneeling just beside her. “Hank? What the hell! How did you get in here?”

“I already told you I can go wherever I please in this prison.”

“That’s not…” She frowned and instinctively checked the wristwatch that was no longer there. “What time is it?”

“Early morning. More to the point,” the man grinned, “it’s time for us to get out of here.”

“What?” _‘Did the old coot finally lose his mind?’_ “What do you mean?”

“I mean the Brotherhood of mutants is taking over the command centre _as we speak_.”

“What?!” She stood up from the bed, all her tiredness suddenly washed away. “You’re serious?”

“I am. Any second now the alarm will go off. Listen,” the grey-haired man took a cautious step towards her. “We need your help.”

“My help? What-” She was abruptly interrupted by the sharp, keening sound of an alarm echoing throughout the facility. Her heart raced madly as she was suddenly washed over by a long-dormant feeling that she instantly recognized as hope. _‘Holy shit. Holy shit, this is really happening!’_

“This is it,” Hank said. Noticing the look in her eyes, he placed a hand on her shoulder. “Kitty, this is the day we leave this damned place forever. But we need your help.”

“How?” She almost had trouble speaking through her excitement, and could hear a loud ruckus from outside as the other mutants in the cell block began to stir. “What can I do?”

“The Winter Soldier is here, and he’s going to break into Tier Block Five. He’ll need your help to do so.”

“Wha-” _‘Scott!’_ “What can I do? I- How do we get in there?”

“Calm yourself, Kitty. Deep breaths.” Outside, other inmates were already roaming the hallways, their cell doors all apparently having been unlocked. “That thing you showed me when your collar malfunctioned – making other things or other people dematerialize. Remember that?”

“Of course, but-”

“Kitty, the Winter Soldier will be looking for you and you need to help him move through the Tier Five lockdown. Can you do that?” There was intensity in his eyes unlike any she had ever seen before.

“I-” Kitty shook her head, unable to formulate a proper answer, so chaotic was her mind. “I can’t… the collar…”

McCoy nodded and brought his hands up to the thin metal object strapped around his neck.

“Wait, wait!” The brown-haired girl acted almost impulsively. “The shock-”

“Not today,” the man grinned, canines almost gleaming in the lights that had suddenly come to life. “Not ever again.”

With a roar, Hank tore the dread collar cleanly in two and scattered small pieces of metal and plastic in all directions. Almost instantaneously, he doubled over and screamed as his muscles rippled and twitched from head to toe. It seemed like his body was reforming itself into a more animalistic appearance covered in deep-blue fur, and he lowered his face to partly obscure the process from view. Kitty took a frightened step back, but it only took a glance into the man’s eyes to realize that nothing had remained wholly intact.

“Wow,” he breathed heavily, slowly rising back to his full height while inspecting the parts of his body where his prison jumpsuit had become torn. “Never thought I’d actually miss doing that.”

“H-How-”

“How did I suddenly become a blue werewolf?” McCoy grinned, his canines now sharp and pronounced. “I told you, Ms. Pryde. The suppression collars have no more control over us now.”

“But how?”

“The electric charges in the collars weren’t locally controlled, to ensure that we couldn’t tamper with them. The Brotherhood cut the signal when they took over the command centre.” The blue-furred man shrugged. “They wanted the ability to shock every inmate simultaneously; well, now it’s biting them in the ass in the worst way possible.”

“This is…” Kitty couldn’t help but grin as she felt her body shaking in excitement. “This is it, then.”

“It is. Come on,” he gestured for her to approach. “Let me get rid of yours. Though the signal is cut, it’ll still supress your powers for a few minutes if we leave it on.”

Nodding, she took a step towards Hank and held her chin up, hoping that her nervousness wouldn’t show as he reached for her neckline with fingers that ended in nails large enough to seem like claws. This time, he barely seemed to strain himself at all as he tore the collar asunder and let it drop heavily down to the floor. It was such a simple action, but such a momentous one.

Kitty had expected the rush of freedom and exhilaration as she tested her powers, confirming that they still worked after so many months of inactivity.

What she hadn’t foreseen was the fury that suddenly raged within her.

McCoy seemed to notice the look in her eyes. “Alright then,” he said, grinning once more. “Let’s make these fuckers pay for what they did to us.”

Something had changed in Peter Parker.

It wasn’t any one thing that he could easily pinpoint, but rather a feeling deep within himself of which he was both aware and unaware at the same time. He had a vague idea of when it had first kicked in – certainly not as Piotr had turned his body to steel and outright smashed a hole into the command centre’s roof, nor as Kurt had made short work of the guards and techs with precise strikes, zipping from one to the other like a magic pinball. It had been just a moment later, when Peter, Felicia and Natasha had followed the others down into the wrecked room and he had caught sight of the myriad monitors lining the control panels like a slideshow of the entire Savage Land.

The misery. The experiments. It had all been laid out right there to greet them like a welcome mat.

When Magneto had yelled out the order for the combat team to storm the nearest cell block, he hadn’t even hesitated. Nor had he held back nearly as much as he usually did when he had turned a corner a run into his first guard, a startled man wearing what looked like white Kevlar and a riot helmet.

 _‘Righteousness. That’s what’s changed.’_ He had felt it with every punch, and after that every subsequent strike against another opponent had echoed the prior feeling: that he was fighting for a cause, to directly bring about some good. It wasn’t so distinct from fighting criminals in New York’s alleyways, but it somehow still made all the difference. He moved fluidly from group to group, webbing, punching and kicking with a grace and fluidity he had barely ever enjoyed before. _‘I can’t fail here – all these people are depending on me. Not just one person, or a dozen. They all are. We have to get them out of here.’_

It was hard to believe just how quickly all the fear and dread dominating him during the onset of the mission had simply evaporated into nothing.

“Spider-Man!” Piotr called out from the middle of the cell block after tossing a guard aside like a ragdoll. “Don’t move out too far on your own!”

“Right, sorry!” They were close enough that they could simply call out to each other over the tumult in the large room. He made his way back towards his allies, yelling at the mutants who were warily hugging the walls as he passed them. “The collars are off! You’re free, you’re free!”

Kurt was similarly performing a double duty, alternating between attacking incoming prison guards and informing as many mutants as he could that their powers were no longer restricted and they could now fight back.

All in all, Peter doubted that he knocked out or webbed up more than nine guards over the course of a few minutes before absolute pandemonium had been unleashed. It didn’t take long after that for the cell block’s only occupants to be cheering mutants, many of whom ran over to clasp him on the shoulder or shake his hand. _‘Man. So this is what it feels like to unambiguously be seen as the good guy.’_ There was an infectious sense of gratitude and pride in the air unlike any he had ever felt before as the liberated prisoners tested out their powers and cried out in euphoria.

“Brothers and sisters!” All eyes snapped up to the top of the stairwell leading into the command centre above, where Magneto stood wielding a megaphone. “Your cries for help have been answered! The Brotherhood of Mutants has come to aid you and put an end to this accursed place once and for all!”

Loud cheers resounded from countless voices, and Peter almost gave in to the urge to join in.

“Rescue will arrive soon, a release from this hellish institution! More members of the Brotherhood seek to aid your escape at the main entrance. I entreat you, aid our fighters as we make our way there, freeing every other cell block on the way! Let us make these bastards pay for their greed and their insolence!”

The mutants in the vast hall all roared back as one, raising their arms in celebration. Peter smiled as he watched Piotr and Kurt trying to get their attention so that they could insert some degree of organization into their continued advance, though it was clear as daylight that even with just these many allies they could sweep through the complex like a tidal wave. _‘Lehnsherr was right – it really was all decided in the first few minutes. There’s nothing the owners of this prison can do to stop this now.’_

Looking up towards one of the catwalks, Peter just managed to catch a glimpse of a dark blur turning a corner towards an adjacent cell block marked ‘Tier Four’, from which he could already hear yelling and the sounds of fighting. He smiled, shooting the spot a small impromptu salute. _‘Godspeed, Captain America. Give ‘em hell.’_

Kitty watched the chaos unfolding before her from the relative safety of her cell. As more and more mutants had realized that their powers were no longer being suppressed they had sprung upon the nervous guards and other staff with a vengeance. Some went further than others, outright killing their former captors with a wide and creative range of powers that weren’t quite designed for non-lethal combat. Others, like Hank, threw themselves with abandon at their foes but restrained themselves from taking their lives. Neither of the two groups seemed to judge the other, so long as the hated jailors were decisively brought down.

Although she was avoiding the melee partly in respect of McCoy’s wishes that she keep herself far from harm, the greater reason was that she knew she would fall within the former group if she partook in the combat. _‘Why break my fist on one of these guards’ helmets if I can reach directly for their hearts?’_ The idea seemed oddly enticing, but she could tell at a glance that even if she did jump into the fray she would have trouble actually finding a guard that was still standing. _‘I wonder if it’s like this in all the other cell blocks? Where do we go from here?’_

There was a sudden commotion near one of the entrances to the hall as a batch of new guards entered the area. Kitty expected to hear and see the freed mutants rushing at their newly-arrived opponents, but instead they began cheering as if watching some great spectacle. Curious, she stepped outside the cell to get a better look at the corner of the room and gasped in surprise.

It was the man they had all seen in the blurry CCTV stills that had been passed in secret around the cell blocks like a banned holy tome; the image of the Brotherhood’s fighting arm, who strove actively and relentlessly for their freedom after decades of imprisonment. The sight was almost akin to seeing a mystical figure in the flesh, and it outright robbed her of her breath.

The cheers echoing throughout the cell block were unanimous and jubilant: “Winter Soldier! Winter Soldier!”

The soldier once known as Captain America had just sent a man tumbling to the ground like a sack of flour with a strike from his shield when he turned to face the last remaining guard. As the punch, delivered by a hand protected by no more than a fingerless glove, outright smashed through the riot helmet’s protective glass and floored the man in one smooth motion the entire room erupted into wild cheering. Steve Rogers barely seemed out of breath as he turned to face the crowd of freed mutants and raised his hands to get their attention.

“Mutants of the Savage Land!” His voice was so loud and commanding that he could be heard across the cell block with ease. “The time of your liberation is at hand! The Brotherhood of Mutants is here, striking out from Cell Block Three! Join with our forces as you smash this charnel house to pieces forevermore and reclaim your freedom!”

As cheers erupted from all the assembled mutants, Kitty could see the blonde man making his way directly towards her cell. Hank, his prison jumpsuit now almost completely torn off from all the fighting, moved to stand by her side as they awaited the soldier’s approach.

“See?” The blue-furred mutant grinned as he caught his breath. “What did I tell you?”

“I never doubted you for a second.”

“Sure you didn’t,” he said with a grin, before turning to face the Winter Soldier. “Steve Rogers. It’s a pleasure and an honour to finally meet you.”

“Likewise, Professor McCoy,” the man said reverentially. “Your assistance made this mission possible in the first place.”

“Too true,” the older man agreed unabashedly, “but it’s not up to me or you anymore, is it? Now it all comes down to this young lady.”

Rogers nodded as he turned his gaze towards Kitty. “Ms. Pryde. I trust you’ve been told how you can assist us?”

“Y-Yeah,” she nodded, startled by the intensity in his voice. “Hank told me everything. About the fake Xavier… all that stuff.”

“Are you willing to go through with this? To help me rescue all the Tier Five mutants?”

“I am.” There wasn’t even a trace of hesitation in her reply. “I’ll help however I can.”

The blonde man smiled. “Thank you. It should be a simple matter – once we get into the Tier Five Block you’ll only be required to help me get the prisoners back out through the lockdown. I’ll take care of all the fighting.”

“Sure.”

“Are you ready to go now?” He looked about at the crowd of mutants that was filing towards the corridor leading into Cell Block Three, then turned his attention towards the opposite end of the room. “Our target area is just past that wall. We need to hurry, so it’ll just be the two of us.”

“I’m ready.” Kitty looked at McCoy and smiled thinly. “Thank you. For everything…”

“No sad farewells now, Ms. Pryde.” He smiled kindly as he gave her shoulder a gentle pat. “We’ll see each other again when this is all over – maybe in Genosha?”

“Yeah.” She nodded heartily. “Yeah, you can bet on it.”

“Good. Until then!” Hank didn’t look back as he followed the thinning crowd of mutants heading out of the cell block.

 _‘Ah, hell.’_ Kitty suddenly felt a deep sadness at seeing the man who had helped her through all those months of imprisonment disappear beyond the doorway. _‘Stay alive, old man.’_

“Come on,” the Winter Soldier said, leading the way over to the far wall. As he moved, he brought a hand up to his ear and spoke into a mic attached to his uniform. “I’ve made contact with Kitty Pryde. Proceeding with the extraction now, over and out.”

They stopped just in front of the massive concrete barrier that marked the threshold of the Tier Five Block. Kitty had always found it sickening to think that Scott was somewhere just beyond that wall, so close to her own cell yet out of reach as long as her powers were inactive. _‘No longer. Time to put an end to all this.’_

“So,” the soldier said, looking at her. “How do we go about this?”

Raising her right arm, Kitty confirmed that her powers were still effective by reaching through the concrete. Nodding, she held her hand out towards the soldier.

“Just hold my hand and I’ll guide you through.”

“Okay. Right.” Rogers complied and, for just a split second, she noticed the apprehensiveness in his eyes. “Once we’re on the other side, stay dematerialized while I take care of the guards.”

“Alright.” _‘Guess even war heroes get freaked out at the thought of walking through solid matter.’_ Wordlessly, she advanced with Rogers in tow and stepped into the wall.

The barrier to the Tier Five Block was shockingly wide, even catching Kitty by surprise, and an action that was usually completed in half a step required several further ones. Though she was instinctively holding her breathe and squeezing her eyes shut as she always did when moving through walls, she could tell by the tight grip on her hand that the Winter Soldier was following close behind. _‘Thank God that worked out on the first try…’_

One step later she finally surfaced on the far side of the wall. Opening her eyes, she tugged roughly at the Winter Soldier’s hand to get him out quicker, fully expecting to be faced with a whole squadron of prison guards. What she saw when she looked about her immediate area, however, was far worse.

_‘Oh God.’_

Steve Rogers emerged from the thick barrier with such force that he almost slipped on the wet floor before them. He seemed to have similarly expected immediate combat, falling into a combat stance by her side. He was breathing heavily, similarly having held his breath during the transition, and it took him a full second to truly register just what they had stepped into.

The narrow corridor they were standing in, which led from left to right into another hallway, was coated from floor to walls with blood and littered with dismembered corpses. The stark white surfaces were covered in bullet holes and claw marks of some kind, and only accentuated the crimson scene besmirching them. Though many of the corpses had been cut into nigh-unrecognizable states they were all without a doubt prison guards and medical staff; there were so many of them that their remains almost formed an uninterrupted carpet across the entire length of the hallway and continued around the corner.

“What…” Kitty gagged as she was suddenly assailed by the overpowering stench, and she pressed herself against the wall she had stepped through. “What the hell…”

The Winter Soldier held out an arm before her protectively as he brought his other hand up to his ear. “Erik, something’s wrong here. There are dead guards in the Tier Five Block – lots of them.” Although his voice was composed, there was evident confusion and fear in his eyes as they searched about cautiously, looking for any sign of danger.

Kitty took a step to the side and groaned quietly as she crushed something soft beneath her prison slipper. Falling to her knees, she vomited onto the blood-stained floor as sweat coated her body. _‘God- Oh God…’_ It felt like her mind was struggling from the sudden whiplash in emotions as the jubilation of the breakout was overwritten by sheer terror.

Rogers helped her up gently as he listened to a reply from the man he had spoken to. The smell of blood and gore was so overwhelming and mind-numbing that it took Kitty a long time afterwards to notice the crimson stains on her knees and hands. _‘What the fuck caused all this? Scott… oh, God, Scott…’_

“Understood. Over and out.” Stepping carefully between a man’s hand and his intestines as he moved away, Rogers turned to face her. “Are you okay?”

“Are you kidding me?” Kitty was perfectly still as she felt the tears stinging at her eyes. “What… what’s going on here…”

“It seems we shut down more than just the collars in the block,” the blonde man said carefully. “One of the Tier Five mutants must have broken free and caused all this.”

“A mutant did this?” She glanced down at the floor, but immediately averted her eyes upon seeing a lower jaw lacking anything above it. She wanted to scream. “What… who could have…”

“Stay here while I investigate. If you see or hear anything-”

“What?! You want to split up?” She covered her mouth with her right arm as she hissed at him. “How fucking dumb-”

The figure appeared at the corner to the hallway so suddenly that Kitty outright felt her breath leaving her. Following the brown-haired mutant’s horrified stare, Rogers quickly turned and moved to stand protectively in front of her while holding up his shield, ignoring the crunching of bones beneath his boots as he did.

“Stop right there! Who are you?!”

Kitty was trembling as she looked past the Winter Soldier at the man silently watching them from a mere four metres away. He was short for his stature, no taller than her, but stood fully upright as he stared at them with unblinking eyes. He wore a shaggy beard and deep black hair that also dotted large parts of his body, though it was hard to tell through all the blood soaking his jumpsuit from head to toe; there was enough gore coating the man to practically conceal the fact that he was even wearing clothes at all.

The only sounds coming from him were the shallow breaths he took through his nose and the steady pattering of viscera dripping to the floor from the dual trifecta of claws extending from his knuckles.

Kitty wanted nothing more than to flee back through the barrier, but felt like she wouldn’t be able to move a muscle even if she tried.

“I’m with the Brotherhood!” Rogers took a cautious step forward. “We’re here-”

Noiselessly, the man leapt at the Winter Soldier with arms extended. The war hero yelled out in surprise and raised his shield just in time to ward off a series of slashes from the bloodied claws, but the gore-caked man carried enough momentum to push Rogers onto the ground. The two tumbled across the carpet of body parts in a heap, and through her shock Kitty could just make out the Winter Soldier striking the maddened attacker in the face with all his strength while trying to push him away.

“Dematerialize!” His yell was almost deafening against the unnatural silence of his foe. “Now!”

Suddenly jolted out of her shock, Kitty immediately did as she was told. It was only then that she realized she had fallen to her knees and was now speckled in patches and droplets of blood from the struggle before her. _‘What- what’s going on? What do I do?’_ She felt her chest constricting against her lungs as she struggled to breathe. _‘Do I help him? What can I do?’_

With a powerful kick Rogers managed to push away the stranger, who was now snarling quietly like an animal. The mutant braced himself against a bloodied wall and leapt at the Winter Soldier once more, but before he could fall upon him again he was struck across the chin by the scarred and sullied shield. Roaring as he stood back up, Rogers used his momentum to hurl the man down to the end of the corridor. He didn’t even wait to check the results of his attack as he scrambled over to Kitty, almost slipping on viscera as he did.

“Come on,” he panted, coated in almost as much blood as his foe was as he stopped before her. “Around the corner. I can’t fight in a space like this.”

“I-”

“Hurry!”

Somehow finding the strength to move, Kitty stood up and darted towards the corner of the hallway, grateful that her continued immaterial state allowed her to simply step through the bodies in her way. Finally clearing the hellish corridor, the brown-haired girl stopped as she looked upon the large circular reception area beyond.

Although over half a dozen dismembered corpses still littered the floor before her, the concentration of gore was mercifully nowhere near what she had witnessed before. Rogers pointed her towards a reception desk, which she ran towards with desperate speed. She had barely crouched behind the table when she heard the wet pattering of footsteps from the hallway behind them.

“Ms. Pryde,” the soldier gasped as he caught his breath, turning to face the sound. “Listen, if I can’t-”

The blood-coated mutant broke out of cover with blinding speed and ran straight at them, wide-eyed and with arms held out wide.

Rogers flung his shield so quickly that Kitty only realized what had happened as its impact flung the crazed attacker backwards. The round object was tossed with such strength that it dug itself into its target’s chest as he was thrown to the far wall of the corpse-strewn corridor. Standing up, she almost fell when she tried to lean on the desk she’d hid behind.

“Y-You got him-”

“No,” the Winter Soldier growled, holding out a blood-soaked hand for her to stay where she was. “I didn’t.”

The horrifying figure had started moving almost immediately upon hitting the floor. Even though the shield was buried deep enough into his chest to crush his ribs, he rose up on unsteady feet and pulled it free with no more sound than a fierce snarl.

_‘What… what the hell is that thing?’_

“Ms. Pryde, listen,” Rogers said, not once taking his eyes off his recovering foe as he withdrew a combat knife from his belt. “I need you to go – look for Charles Xavier. When you find him, get him out of here. Only materialize once you find him, you understand me?”

“What? No!” Her eyes were darting between the soldier and the corridor, where the shield had been discarded with a muffled clatter. “I can help you!”

“No!” Rogers stared at her intently from the corner of his eye for a brief second. “Don’t even try it. If you die, all is lost. Everything!”

“I can’t-”

The blood-drenched man closed the distance to them so quickly that she didn’t even have time to take cover before he leapt into the air. Rogers instantly went on the offensive, tackling his attacker to the floor before he could use his claws. Through the confusing mess that was their struggle on the floor, Kitty saw the combat knife sink again and again into the monstrous man’s chest and gut, to no apparent effect. _‘He’s unkillable…’_

After a few seconds the wildly flailing claws finally found their mark, and Rogers jumped off his opponent with a yell as blood spurted from the deep gash on his arm. The mutant rose quickly after him, now clearly displaying half a dozen deep cuts across his breast and stomach. The Winter Soldier braced himself for another attack just before it landed, and somehow managed to duck under a swing from one of the claws by a hair’s breadth. Turning on his heels quickly as the crazed man’s momentum carried him past the soldier, Rogers advanced on him from behind and wrapped the mutant’s neck in a chokehold. Kitty stood up taller for a better look as they toppled onto the floor, with the war hero desperately trying to secure his hold on the madman. The latter was swinging his claws wildly and desperately, but his attacks failed to meet their mark or dislodge the soldier.

The bloodied man’s eyes fluttered briefly as he gasped for air when, suddenly, he bent an elbow and stabbed his claws right through his own chest. Rogers screamed in pain and shock as the bloodied tips of three sharp metal prongs emerged from the small of his back, and he was kicked off his enemy within a split second of loosening his grip on him.

“No!” It all happened so quickly that the crazed mutant was already standing over Rogers by the time she yelled out. “No, stop!”

Blood streamed from the Winter Soldier’s mouth as he turned his head to call out to Kitty, his blue eyes practically begging her to stay away.

The blood-soaked man didn’t even look her way as he kneeled down on top of his fallen enemy and casually stabbed a set of claws into his gut.

Kitty’s body seemed to move of its own accord. Within a few bounds she had darted past the charnel house of corpses and was at the scene of the struggle. The insane brown eyes of the man rose to glare at her just an instant before she dug her arm into his back. Terror and desperation clashed within her as she reached for his heart, but it was with sickening confusion that she noticed how _wrong_ his insides were. The man withdrew the claws he had stabbed Rogers with and made a motion as if to rise up.

_‘Fuck it.’_

Gripping some unknown organ, Kitty rematerialized her body. There was a disgusting sound as the energy gathered around her limb pushed aside his innards, and the violent mutant roared in agony for the first time as she pulled her bloodied arm out, leaving a gaping wound in his back. Stunned to see him still standing, the brown-haired girl failed to dematerialize in time to avoid a wild swing from the man’s arm against her head. Although she was struck by his forearm rather than his claws, there was still enough force in the attack to send her toppling to the ground.

Kitty’s head was ringing and she could taste metal in her mouth as she tried to stand back up, but her hand slipped on a puddle of blood and she slumped back down onto the corpse that had softened her initial fall. Raising her upper body, she stared wide-eyed as the wounded madman shambled over to her, leaving a motionless Steve Rogers in his wake. Her heart raced wildly as she tried to focus on dematerializing, but there was nothing but sheer, flayed terror on her mind as she fought for breath.

_‘Can’t… can’t die. Not here, not… not…’_

The short man stood before her, close enough to cast a shadow and drip blood onto her jumpsuit. His arms hung limply by his sides for a moment, before he abruptly raised one high above his head.

Kitty screamed, screwed her eyes shut.

“I’m… sorry.”

The brown-haired girl’s body was so tensed that it took her a full second to actually register the strange voice, followed by an odd slumping sound. She opened her tear-soaked eyes to see that the man had fallen to his knees before her, his gaze suddenly no longer maddened but remorseful. Kitty didn’t move a muscle as she gasped for air, but she finally managed to collect herself long enough to dematerialize once again.

The kneeling man didn’t seem to notice the change as his continued staring at her. The sudden sound of flesh being torn caught her attention, and Kitty looked down to see the metallic blades sticking out of his knuckles slowly retracting back into his arms. There was not so much as a hint of pain in his blank expression as he gazed at her – only sadness and regret.

Kitty scrambled to stand up amidst the corpses and blood, and it was only after she had stumbled away from the mutant that she first noticed the two strangers standing at a doorway behind the reception desk: an elderly bald man in a wheelchair and, behind him, a blue-skinned woman with long red hair.

Both were wearing prisoner jumpsuits, and the former was moving his lips wordlessly while keeping his eyes shut.

Kitty tried to call out to them, but her voice caught in her throat. Feeling like her legs were about to give way, she struggled to create some more distance from the blood-soaked man before finally falling to her knees and sobbing. Her mind was a wild maelstrom of adrenaline, panic, fear of death and unbridled confusion, so she simply tried to focus on regulating her breathing. She balled her hands into fists to keep them from shaking as she looked back up towards the newcomers. The bald man, she noticed, was now looking at her with deeply sad eyes.

“My child,” he said softly in a British accent, “you’re safe now.”

Still too shaken up to think properly, Kitty glanced back towards the spot she’d fled from. The crazed mutant was still kneeling where he’d fallen, though he was now staring intently at the floor while biting his lip hard enough to draw blood.

“Who-” she managed, fighting for air as she slowly recognized the man before her. “You… you’re…”

“My name is Charles Xavier, and this is Raven Darkhölme.”

 _‘Xavier- Rogers!’_ Kitty suddenly found the strength to get up on to her feet and ran over to the fallen soldier. A large pool of blood had formed around his upper body, forcing her to kneel in it as she shook his shoulder.

It only took a brief glance into his baby-blue eyes, staring vacantly up at the ceiling, to ascertain that the man once known as Captain America was dead. Kitty felt a knot in her stomach as she lowered her head and supressed the urge to scream. _‘Dammit. Goddammit. I was too slow, too damn slow to help… Fuck. Fuck, I-’_

“Young woman,” Xavier suddenly said, wheeling his way up to them, “there is nothing you could have done for him.”

Kitty looked up and blinked away her tears. “What?”

“That soul over there,” the bald man said, nodding towards the kneeling mutant. “His name is Logan, and he was the target of all the malice, wickedness and cruelty that mankind could muster. They did unspeakable things to him here, turned him inside out in both body and mind. All this foul miasma, packed into him as if into a bottle…” He took a deep breath and shook his head. “There was no stopping him once he broke free – not for the guards, nor for our dear Steve Rogers. They were up against the darkness of man itself.”

Kitty sniffled and looked towards the mutant called Logan. “But he… he stopped.”

“I stopped him, by calming his mind. It was a struggle like none I have ever fought before, but his eyes are now open once again.” He held out a hand towards her. “I regret that I could not get here sooner.”

Nodding, Kitty cautiously took his hand and pushed herself off the ground. Glancing down, she felt a cold pit in her stomach at the sight of the hero who had inspired so much hope throughout the Savage Land.

“We were supposed to get you out,” she said, suddenly feeling exhausted like never in her life. “You and... and the other Tier Five mutants. The Brotherhood of Mutants is here.”

“Erik.” Charles Xavier nodded slowly. “So, the dream may yet become a reality.”

“I… I think the Winter Soldier said we were in a hurry. That there’s little time.” Her lips almost trembled as she asked a question that had been burning within her chest. “Scott Summers… do you know him?”

“I do.”

“Is he safe?”

“Most probably,” he replied, waving for the blue-skinned woman to approach. “He and his cellmate are still locked in.”

 _‘Thank God. Thank God.’_ “Right, good. Good. Then let’s go get them.”

Xavier leaned back in his wheelchair to address the woman he had introduced as Raven. “Can you carry him?”

The golden-eyed woman took a good look at Steve Rogers and nodded.

“Then we shall not leave him here. Please, check for a radio. The Brotherhood has to know what happened.” The woman nodded silently again and Xavier turned his attention back towards Kitty. “Let us go, then, Kitty Pryde.”

“Y-You know me?”

“I know a great deal of things, child.” The bald man smiled sadly as he turned and headed back in the direction from which the couple had first appeared. “I am a telepath, you see. That is how I calmed Logan – by confronting his mind directly. He will be lucid and responsive upon our return.”

“You’re… a mind-reader?” Kitty kept pace with him as she glanced over her shoulder at the fallen hero one last time. “Couldn’t you have stopped him before?”

“Would that I could have, but Logan was in the midst of an experiment on the other end of the block when his collar was deactivated. What’s more, I had to aid another troubled mind first.”

“Whose?”

“One who might have wreaked even more havoc than poor Logan ever could.” Xavier turned a corner down an angular corridor bearing the familiar sight of dismembered corpses, and headed towards one door in particular. “The sudden reactivation of her powers almost drove her into a frenzy, Ms. Pryde. It was imperative that I calm her down quickly.”

“Her?” Kitty frowned, feeling a sudden fear in her gut. “Is this the person you mentioned before… his cellmate?”

“Indeed it is.”

“And Scott’s locked up with her?”

“Not to worry, child.” Xavier held up a hand to calm her as he stopped in front of their destination. “She would have killed us all before letting any harm befall him.”

“What the hell are you talking about?” She looked up at the door he had stopped before and frowned upon seeing a complete lack of handles or switches upon its surface. “Is this it?”

The old man nodded. “Just as this block has a lockdown procedure, so too does their cell.”

“That makes no goddamn sense.”

“Doesn’t it?” He raised an eyebrow. “The men who ran this place were fearful above all else, like children in the night. Their solution was to bury the source of their fears as deep down as possible, out of sight and out of mind.”

“So why the hell is Scott in there?!” Ever since the wheelchair-bound man had begun talking she had been feeling more and more anxious.

“Because she reacted well to him. His presence calmed her.”

“And how do you know all this?”

“Have you forgotten?” He tapped his bald head. “I have done all I could here. Now it is up to you to rescue them.”

Kitty looked at the smooth steel door before her. It looked cold and lifeless, and betrayed nothing of what lay within.

“It’s safe,” Xavier said, smiling warmly. “But only you can get them out of there.”

“Alright,” she nodded, taking a deep breath. “Okay. Stay right here.”

“I won’t go anywhere.”

Reaching out, Kitty placed her palm against the metallic door and dematerialized her body. Swallowing, she took two steps and emerged on the other side of another surprisingly-wide barrier. She froze once she had crossed over as she was met by an enormous room coated in absolute darkness.

“Scott?” She blinked, looking around the dome-like chamber as her eyes began to adjust to the dimness. The size of the cell was staggering – the ceiling lay some twenty metres above her, with the room’s circumference being almost twice that. Hearing a crunching sound underfoot, she leaned down to see that she had stepped on some kind of soft glass. _‘A light bulb?’_

There was suddenly a shuffling sound from the centre of the room as someone stood up.

“Kitty?”

“Scott!” Instantly recognizing the voice she darted towards its source. She was about to call out again when she suddenly felt a tremendous force weighing down the air itself, bringing her to an immediate standstill as her knees buckled under the impossible pressure. She opened her mouth but couldn’t even struggle for breath as her lungs simply stopped functioning. _‘W-What-’_

“Stop, stop!” Scott’s voice was drawing closer and closer as he yelled out. “That’s her, it’s Kitty Pryde! Stop!”

Just as Kitty thought that her teeth might burst apart along with her eardrums the titanic pressure suddenly disappeared, vanishing like a thin mist. Gasping for air, she collapsed onto the floor in a heap just as the pattering of footsteps alerted her of someone’s approach.

“Kitty! Kitty!” She felt a hand patting around on her shoulder and her arm as if searching for something, and seconds thereafter Scott Summers fell to his knees by her side. “Kitty, are you okay?”

“S-Scott-” Her vision was a blur as she tried to regain her focus. “This… this how you greet…”

“Come on, save the jokes. Just breathe.” He was holding her up, rocking her gently. “Anything… anything busted? Can you see?”

“I…” She blinked once, twice, looked up.

It was hard to make out the exact details in the darkness, but Scott was right there beside her in a prison jumpsuit. His left sleeve was rolled up to reveal an arm covered in bandages, but that was hardly as noticeable a detail as the large, metallic contraption strapped around his eyes.

“I… I can see.” She smiled as a fiery warmth raged in her chest. “I see you.”

“Thank God…” He was holding her tightly as he took a deep breath. “God, Kitty, I’m so relieved.”

“What was that?” Kitty tried to sit up on the floor as she scrutinized the device on her boyfriend’s face. _‘Some kind of metallic blindfold? What the hell?’_

“That was Jean… I’m sorry. Things have been crazy since… well.” He raised his head towards the darkness. “Jean! Come on over, it’s safe!”

There was no response for a long time as the couple embraced each other tightly.

“I don’t think there’s anyone here,” Kitty said once her eyes had become fully accustomed to the dark and she noticed the complete absence of a cellmate. “Maybe she somehow left?”

“Trust me, she’s here. I can hear her.”

On a whim, Kitty looked upwards into the gloom and immediately froze.

Suspended in the air just below the dome’s ceiling was a thin figure, long-haired and feminine. Gleaming eyes stared down at them as she slowly descended towards the ground like a puppet on strings. As she came closer, Kitty could see that the person was a young woman around her age wearing a similar prison jumpsuit. It wasn’t until she had gently and soundlessly touched down on the ground that the colour of her waist-length red hair became discernible.

Scott seemed to instantly notice her presence as he turned to face her. “Jean… everything okay?”

“Just startled, is all,” the girl replied in a quiet voice.

“This is Kitty Pryde. I told you about her.”

The red-haired girl kneeled down behind him to get a better look. “Nice to finally meet you. Sorry about before.”

“Kitty, this is Jean Grey,” Scott quickly added. “She’s the only reason I managed to survive for so long in this hellhole.”

“Hi,” Kitty said with a small wave and looked around. “What’s with this room?”

“Isolation chamber,” he replied simply. “We haven’t got a clue what’s going on out there. Is it a rescue?”

“That’s right. The Brotherhood is here, and we’re getting the fuck out of here once and for all.”

“The Brotherhood?” It was hard to ascertain his reaction through the large device, but his tone was one of relief. “Thank God. Where are they?”

“Outside the cell block. Only I can get us through the lockdown. Can you move?”

“You kidding me? I’d run a marathon right now if it meant leaving this place.”

She reached for the metallic blindfold covering his eyes. “Let me just get that thing-”

“No!” Scott suddenly rose to his feet and stepped away from her, almost barrelling into the red-haired girl as she rushed to his side. “Don’t touch it.”

“What?” She frowned as she stood up. “Why?”

“It’s… my eyes.”

A cold fear clutched at her gut. “What did they do?”

“Plenty. But this was…” He took a deep breath. “Remember when they caught us? They hit me on the head, knocked me out. I got a concussion, but that wasn’t all.” He reached out with a hand blindly until it found Jean Grey’s shoulder. “I, uh… they broke my power, Kitty. Something in my brain…”

“What are you saying?” She took a step towards him.

“My powers are always on now. All the time.” He shrugged as he spat out the words. “Day and night, whatever… I just need to raise my eyelids. That’s why they put this thing on me… so that I won’t kill anyone with a blink.”

“My God…” She wanted to reach out for him, but was wary of the red-haired mutant’s menacing glare. “Does it hurt?”

He nodded. “Yeah.”

“All the time?”

“No, no, just when-”

 _‘Screw it.’_ Taking a quick step forward, Kitty wrapped her arms around his back and hugged him tightly. Scott seemed surprised for a moment, but he quickly returned the embrace while gently leaning his forehead against hers.

“I fucking missed you,” she whispered.

He smiled. “So did I.”

“Come on.” She held his hand and nodded towards the exit. “Let’s all get the hell out of here.”

“Watch your step here,” Kitty called out behind her as she carefully wheeled Charles Xavier past the body parts and blood carpeting the corridor adjacent to the cell block’s barrier wall. “It’s… slippery.”

The bald old man before her held on tightly to his chair and had the good grace not to cover his nose before the overwhelming stench of death. Even though Raven had made an effort to clear a path for the man’s wheelchair, it was still a morbid, bumpy ride. Glancing back over her shoulder, Kitty watched Jean Grey carefully guide Scott down the clearest path while, further behind, the blue-skinned woman and the man called Logan waited for the corridor to clear out. The lattermost, she noted with a speck of twisted satisfaction, was regarding the scene of the massacre with dull, sorrowful eyes.

“Don’t be too hard on Logan,” Xavier suddenly said. “The poor man was subjected to tortures that aimed to tear apart and rebuild everything that defined him as an individual. He was not himself before, and is a good man at heart.”

“I think I’ll be the judge of that,” Kitty said as they reached the far wall. “And for future reference, I’d appreciated it if you didn’t read my thoughts.”

“Why read your thoughts when I can just observe the look on your face?”

Suppressing the urge to lash out at the man, Kitty turned around to address the mutants behind her.

“I’m going through with Xavier now,” she announced. “Wait here, I’ll be back in a second.”

Placing one hand on the wheelchair’s handlebar and another on the old man’s shoulder for good measure, Kitty dematerialized and stepped through the barrier. Now more familiar than before with the breadth of the wall, she opened her eyes again just as they emerged in the Tier Four Block she had bitterly called home for the past few months. The block’s central hall was now vacant with the exception of four individuals she didn’t recognize who observed her from the middle of the room. _‘Those are definitely the Brotherhood members Raven mentioned.’_ While three of them wore matching odd-coloured outfits, the one furthest apart donned an identical suit to Spider-Man’s, though bearing inverted colours. _‘Maybe it actually is Spider-Man? Anything’s possible on this wild ride…’_

“Charles.” The oldest-looking man in the group took a step forward with a warm smile. “It’s good to see you again, my friend.”

“Erik,” the bald man in the wheelchair said, his voice full of emotion. He glanced up towards Kitty and nodded gently. “It’s alright, Ms. Pryde. Before you stand members of the Brotherhood, foremost of all Erik Lehnsherr.”

“Magneto?” She scrutinized the grey-haired man as he made his way towards them. “I’m surprised to see him in the thick of it.”

“I was never one to sit out a fight I myself had started,” Lehnsherr said, overhearing her. “Not to mention the most important mission for mutantkind – and one which I am glad to say has resulted in success.”

“It’s not over yet,” Xavier reminded him. “And it wasn’t without cost.”

Magneto halted his approach just a metre before them, his smile now bearing a profound sadness. “Of course. An almost unbearable cost – and one we must not allow to be in vain. We will do everything in our power to attain freedom for you and the other prisoners, Charles.”

“Something troubles you?”

Lehnsherr nodded with a grimace. “The military reinforcements… they’re already on the move. Far sooner than we had anticipated.”

The old man nodded and quickly looked back towards the brown-haired girl. “Ms. Pryde, speed is now of the utmost essence. If you would…”

“Right.”

As she made her way back through the barrier, Kitty mulled over the fear she had suddenly detected in Charles Xavier’s weary eyes as he spoke to her. _‘The military’s on its way? Shouldn’t they have planned for this? Looks like we’ll be making a run for it…’_ As motivated as she was to put the Savage Land behind her forevermore, she doubted that she could put up much of a fight against an actual army if they were bearing down on the prison. _‘Captain America – Steve Rogers would know what to do. This situation would be right down his alley.’_

Emerging in the death-choked hallway Kitty quickly held out a hand towards Scott, who was leaning on a wall and seemingly recovering from having thrown up. “Alright, let’s go. We need to hurry, the army’s on its way.”

“The army?” Her boyfriend didn’t move to take her hand as he straightened up and looked in her direction, and it was only after a second that she quietly chided herself for her sudden absentmindedness. Reaching forward, she grabbed his hand while ignoring Jean Grey’s cautious glare.

“Come on,” Kitty said quietly as she gently led him towards the wall. “Just a couple more steps and you’ll be out of this hell.”

“From what Jean described to me, this place literally _is_ hell.”

“She’s not wrong.”

Quickly leading her boyfriend through the barrier, Kitty saw Magneto in a heated conversation with Xavier further towards the back of the cell block. They were quickly greeted by the Spider-Man rip-off, who hurried to their aid.

“Is he okay?” The voice behind the mask was muffled, but clearly didn’t belong to a man much older than her. “That thing on his face…”

“I’m fine,” Scott said as Kitty stepped back towards the wall. “It’s… something to keep my powers in check. I can’t see through it, but I’m okay.”

“Alright, good, good.” The masked figure carefully reached for his arm. “Here, let me help you.”

“Thanks, um…”

“Spider-Man. I’m Spider-Man.”

“Wow, what?” Scott grinned as he was led towards Xavier. “You’re here too? Were you a prisoner?”

As much as she wanted to, Kitty didn’t hear the rest of the conversation as she rushed back into the Tier Five Block to retrieve all the other mutants waiting for her. She started with Jean Grey, who stood nearest to the wall; the dour-looking girl obediently let the brown-haired mutant lead her through the lockdown barrier without so much as a word, and upon making it to the other side she only gave her rescuer a quick nod before rushing off towards the others. _‘I honestly can’t tell if she dislikes me in particular or if she’s always like that. I somehow doubt it, if Scott could survive being locked up with her for however long…’_ Focusing on the task at hand, Kitty ran back through the wall to take care of the part she had been dreading most of all.

When she re-emerged in the liberated prison block with Raven, who carried Steve Rogers’ body in her arms like it weighed nothing, the reaction played out more or less as she had expected it to. Most of the mutants simply stopped talking with each other to look upon the corpse with sombre, mournful gazes. Ironically, it was the one man whose expression was obscured who showed the strongest reaction as Spider-Man excused himself from Scott and ran over just to look at the body from close up. While she couldn’t see his face, everything about the masked man’s body language was indicative of sadness and regret.

“What happened in there?” His voice was so quiet that she almost didn’t hear him. “How did he die?”

Kitty hesitated for a brief moment as she tried to find the right words. “There was a... a mutant in there who’d been driven crazy by experiments. They fought and the Winter Soldier was…” She swallowed as she felt a lump in her throat. “Xavier calmed the mutant down, but it was too late.”

“…I see.” Spider-Man gently touched the man’s arm while looking at his scarred and bloodied shield, which Raven had strapped to his wrist. “He’s… you’re both covered in blood.”

“There are a lot of dead bodies in there. Guards, doctors... it’s messy.”

“Right.” His gaze moved to Rogers’ face, which had been cleaned up after his eyelids had been closed. “I can take him from here.”

“It’s fine,” Raven said plainly, looking down at the masked man. “He’s heavier than he looks.”

Spider-Man looked like he was on the verge of saying something, but simply nodded and moved aside so that the body could be carried over to the others.

Before turning back towards the wall, Kitty felt compelled to say something to the dejected-looking mutant. “He fought really hard. I don’t think I’d have lasted more than a minute in there without him.”

“Yeah.” He nodded as he watched Raven walk away. “That’s Captain America for you.”

Nodding, the brown-haired girl turned away. “I have to go get the last prisoner…”

Spider-Man suddenly turned to look at her. “Is that… the mutant that killed Steve?”

“Yeah. Like I said, he’s calm now.”

“Okay. Well,” he turned to face her directly. “Be careful.”

“Sure thing.” Only as she walked up to the wall was she suddenly struck by how surreal it felt to have had a conversation with New York’s most infamous mutant in the Savage Land, of all places.

As she stepped into the Tier Five Block for what she swore would be the last time ever, Kitty found herself once again in the hellish corridor. She averted her eyes from the floor as she looked around and found the savage mutant standing idly near the same spot at the corner of the hallway where he had first shown himself. He was looking at her with the same sad eyes that he’d borne since the end of his fight with Rogers, and didn’t seem inclined to make his way towards her.

 _‘Alright, then. Let’s get this the hell over with.’_ After a long moment of hesitation, she held out a hand and gestured for him to approach.

“Let’s go,” she said amidst the silence of the reeking hallway. “Time to get out of here.”

The blood-drenched man looked at her hand as if confused, but didn’t move a muscle.

 _‘We don’t have time for this!’_ She tried to recall the name that Xavier had mentioned before as she repeated the gesture. “Come on… uh, Logan. We need to go now.”

The mutant finally reacted upon hearing his own name and, after a few more seconds, made his way through the horrid scene of his own creation. The blood soaking into her slippers from underfoot was still lukewarm as Logan stopped before her and slowly reached out for her. Suppressing her disgust and apprehension, Kitty took hold of his callused and torn hand before guiding him back through the lockdown barrier. She was relieved to feel him following after her, and a few seconds later she had emerged one last time into the Tier Four Block.

 _‘Finally.’_ Letting go of the mutant’s hand, she took a deep breath in an attempt to recover from the repeated use of her powers. _‘Now we can get the hell out of here.’_

The mutants gathered near the end of the room, however, didn’t seem to share her sense of euphoria. While some of them, including Spider-Man, glared for a few seconds at the newly-arrived Logan they were too heavily embroiled in conversation to pay him much heed. Kitty frowned and quickly made her way over to them. _‘Shit. Something’s wrong. Can we not just get the hell out of dodge already?’_

“I have no idea, Charles,” Lehnsherr was saying. “Perhaps someone tipped them off, perhaps they expanded their intelligence networks. That doesn’t change the facts, however.”

“We can’t just leave,” the bald mutant said firmly. “Not before the trucks can get away.”

“There’s _no time_ ,” Lehnsherr said, suddenly breaking from his calm demeanour. “If we can’t save everyone, then we may as well save you. As long as you live, the cause-”

“Out of the question,” Xavier cut him off firmly. “There are over eight hundred mutants out there, Erik. Eight hundred of our brothers and sisters.”

Kitty walked over to where Scott was listening in on the discussion. “What’s going on?”

“The military reinforcements are minutes away,” he said, still looking in the direction of the discussing pair. “Most of the mutants being evacuated won’t get out in time.”

“What?!”

Magneto finally noticed her and straightened his posture. “Is everyone accounted for, Ms. Pryde?”

“Y-Yes…”

“Good.” He turned back towards the older man. “Then I _insist_ , Charles. We have a better chance of making it if we leave now.”

“There has to be something we can do-”

“Look what we risked for this!” Magneto suddenly raised his voice, furious. “Look what it cost us! That’s an entire battalion-”

“I can help,” Scott suddenly piped up from Kitty’s side, seemingly having been gathering the courage to speak up.

Lehnsherr, surprised, shot him a doubtful look. “Please, Mr. Summers…”

“I can help,” he repeated. “I know I can. All those experiments gave me a good idea of how strong my beams are.”

“There’s an army bearing on us, son.”

“You know what they did to me, Xavier,” Scott pushed on. “You know I can hit hard and far.”

“No, my boy. Too many would die.” The bald man shook his head. “There are hundreds of other mutants out there, each with a unique power. We’ll find a way-”

“Charles,” Lehnsherr suddenly snapped, interrupting the man before taking a step towards Scott. “I recall your dossier now. You’re saying your powers are functional? Strong enough to travel for miles?”

“Yes, sir. I’m certain of it.”

Magneto nodded. “They approach as a convoy… trucks and tanks, even helicopters all grouped together. You’re perfect, Mr. Summers – you could destroy them or at least halt their process from afar, but either way…”

“Scott,” Xavier cut in, moving closer to the young man. “People could die. There have been casualties during the breakout, but compared to this…”

“I know.” He looked in Kitty’s direction for a moment and nodded. “But if that’s what it will take to get everyone away safely…”

The bald man shook his head quietly, in contrast to the proud smile on Lehnsherr’s face.

“Thank you, Scott. It really is the only way.” He raised his voice to address all the mutants in the room. “You heard the plan. Ms. Darkhölme, please take Charles and Logan to the command centre. Kurt, escort them. Everyone else, follow me to the main entrance. Ms. Pryde, if you would be so kind…”

“I’ve got him,” Kitty replied, taking Scott by the arm as the group quickly split apart. She still felt bewildered by the sudden turn of events as she leaned in to whisper to her boyfriend. “Are you sure about this?”

“No,” he admitted, grimacing. “But I think it’s the best shot we’ve got.”

“What about Jean Grey?” She looked about to confirm that the redhead was out of earshot. “Xavier said she was really powerful.”

“That would be like detonating a bomb vest to scare away a mugger. Besides, she’s calmed down now.”

“How can you tell?”

“I wish I knew. Maybe…” He suddenly trailed off as she led him towards the cell block’s exit in the Brotherhood’s wake.

“What is it?”

“Xavier. He talked to me in my mind… like Jean does.” He frowned under the metallic blindfold. “Guess he had some parting words.”

“What did he say?”

“He told me that they’d never forgive us if I do this.”

She was silent for a moment as she increased her pace. “Did you say anything back? Or… think?”

“I did. I told him that we’re already long past forgiving and forgetting.”

“Good.”

It almost felt bizarre to stand outside under the clear blue sky after so many months of imprisonment within Tier Block Four’s confines, but Kitty tried not to let that fact distract her as she followed Magneto onto a hill situated just by the main entrance’s heavy steel doors. Below, on the paved road that led directly into the facility’s parking lot, dozens of covered military trucks stood parked side by side as countless mutants were systematically loaded into the backs. Although many of the vehicles were already fully loaded they seemed to be waiting for an opportunity to leave. _‘Makes sense. There’s no point fleeing now if the Army will just follow close behind.’_

As they crested the hill, Kitty finally got a good look at the rolling plains that stretched out for kilometres from the vast mountains at their backs, and her eyes widened as she caught sight of the approaching reinforcements speeding down the main road leading into the Xavier Institute and kicking up clouds of dust in their wake.

_‘Ah, hell.’_

It was a large convoy – it looked to be at least twelve trucks mixed up with four large tanks that set the overall pace. Above them, as if guarding the forces from the air, two small military helicopters approached slowly. They were indeed a tightly-packed group, and though this hampered the speed of their advance they were closing in quickly enough to reach the prison in a matter of minutes. The reality of the danger suddenly dawned on her as the observed the military procession, and a familiar feeling of dread seethed in her chest.

“Angel,” Lehnsherr said, looking up as he talked into a radio he had detached from his belt. “Any change? Any new reinforcements?”

“No, nothing,” a faint voice replied, reaching her as she stood by the Brotherhood’s leader. “I figured it out, though. They were holding an unscheduled exercise. The rest of the base hasn’t mobilized yet.”

“So it was sheer rotten luck, then.”

“That’s right. They’re in a tight formation, though… maybe to try and intimidate us with their numbers.”

Kitty followed the man’s gaze and could just barely make out a figure soaring in the skies above. _‘Angel… that was one of the first mutants to reveal themselves. So he’s in the Brotherhood, too.’_ She recalled the wholesale pandemonium that his public reveal had caused amongst religious organization worldwide.

“Alright, there’s nothing more you can do up there. We’ll try to stall them, so get back to safety.”

“Copy that. Good luck, Magneto.”

As Lehnsherr replaced the radio in his belt, he turned towards the couple and took a deep breath. “Well, Mr. Summers, here we are. The hill we stand upon overlooks the road perfectly – the rest is up to you.”

“Right.” Scott felt around for Kitty’s hand and turned towards her. “Please, help me get this thing off.”

“But your eyes…”

“I’ll be careful.” He smiled reassuringly. “Come on, trust me. This is the only way.”

Kitty nodded and glanced around. Spider-Man was watching them intently alongside Magneto, and many of the mutants being loaded onto the trucks below had also turned their attention towards the hill. Taking a deep breath, she stepped around her boyfriend and fiddled with the straps on his metallic blindfold, using her powers to phase through and destroy any sections that required some sort of key to unlock. Gently lifting it up over his head rather than letting it drop to the floor, she looked at the device’s interior and saw that it was coated in some sort of crimson glass.

“What the hell is this red stuff?”

“Something called ruby quartz.” Scott kept his eyes squeezed shut as he wiped sweat from the areas of his brow that had been freed from the blindfold. “It supposedly negates my beams, which would just have burnt through the device otherwise.”

“So why did they blindfold you in the first place?”

“Just to fuck with me, I think.”

“Mr. Summers,” Lehnsherr piped up. “If you could…”

“Of course, sorry. I just needed a second.” He took another slow, deep breath. “I need someone to… to point me at them. I’ll be able to see once I open my eyes, but…”

“Say no more.” Magneto took a step forward before Kitty could offer to help and placed his hands on the young man’s shoulders. Scott shifted his stance as Lehnsherr guided him, until he finally stood facing the road containing the military convoy, which by now stood a mere handful of kilometres away.

“Is this... am I facing them?”

“You are,” Magneto said, leaving one hand on his shoulder to balance him. He seemed to notice Scott’s nervous, ragged breathing and smiled reassuringly. “Be strong. These people are servants of the monsters who built this pit, but they are not without a will of their own: they would like nothing more than to stick us back in there, or simply put a bullet in our heads and be done with it.”

“I know,” he said, gritting his teeth. “I know that.”

The convoy was close now, close enough that Kitty could hear the tanks’ treads as they advanced over pavement...

“Then open your eyes, Scott.” Magneto straightened himself as he raised his voice. “Look upon our savage enemies and avenge us for what they have done! Let them feel the wrath of mutantkind!”

There was a second of hesitation.

The crimson flash appeared so suddenly that Kitty yelped and almost dropped the apparatus in her hands as she averted her eyes. Looking up, she stared in horror and awe as a chaotic, unbroken beam of red light shot from Scott’s eyes. A deafening sound akin to that of a saw cutting through wood filled her ears to the extent that she almost didn’t hear his raw, pained scream. Bewildered, she tried to follow the beam’s path to observe its effect but could not keep her eyes on the blinding light long enough to do so. Dust was blown in every direction upon the hill as Scott continued his onslaught, using his power for far longer than she had ever even thought possible.

_‘Holy shit… holy shit! Something’s wrong here, something’s not right-’_

Kitty tried to reach for Scott, who was still being braced by Lehnsherr as the older man averted his eyes from the light. She had almost reached him when she felt someone grab her by the wrist to stop her. Glancing back, she saw Jean Grey shaking her head urgently; the redhead and the very hill they stood upon almost seemed to be bathed in a bloody hue as Scott’s screams grew louder. Further below, Spider-Man was quickly making his way towards them while shielding his eyes.

“Let go!” Kitty shouted, her words being drowned out by the deafening sound. Pulling her arm free, she turned back towards the pair on the hilltop a mere second before the beam, wavering and jolting along its path like a windswept red cloth, suddenly vanished. The crimson hue coating the hill disappeared just as quickly as the noise, leaving her ears ringing as she blinked her burning eyes and tried to maintain her balance. A passing glance towards the road sufficed to leave her numb with shock as she realized the full extent of the destruction that had been wrought.

_‘My God… Scott…’_

There was nothing left of the military convoy but charred husks that billowed clouds of black smoke towards the sky. Some of the tanks had been sundered in half, and most of the trucks were outright reduced to scattered pieces. There was no sign whatsoever of either bodies or survivors, and even the helicopters had fallen under the sudden onslaught.

A deathly silence reigned above the hilltop as Scott fell to his knees and gasped, drops of sweat pattering against the earth below as he tried to recover his breath. Magneto, who had only then let go of his shoulder, stood perfectly still as he regarded the scene of the destruction below them.

Pulling herself together, Kitty closed the short distance to Scott and kneeled by his side. He flinched when she carefully placed a hand on his back but seemed to instantly calm down upon recognizing her.

From up close, Kitty could tell that the skin around his eyes was heavily inflamed as he squeezed his eyelids shut.

“Kitty,” he breathed after a moment. “Did... did they stop? Did I get them all?”

She was about to reply when a loud, triumphant cheer sounded from below. Looking down the hillside, Kitty saw the evacuating mutants clapping and hooting at them as they stood by their trucks. There were hundreds of voices – jubilant, raucous and grateful. The sound of a far closer laugh made her look up towards Lehnsherr, who was smiling broadly as he regarded the young man.

“You got them, Scott,” Magneto answered for her, a gust of wind sweeping at his grey hair. “And it was magnificent, son… truly magnificent.”


	9. Chapter 9

_‘Well… mission accomplished.’_

The flight back to Minnesota was a solemn one despite the operation’s success; none of the Blackbird’s occupants were particularly inclined to cheer or celebrate their victory, even after Magneto received word of the transport trucks’ successful escape into allied hiding spots a few hours after take-off. Peter suspected that the cold atmosphere had something to do with the disagreement Lehnsherr and Xavier had had over their methods of dealing with the military reinforcements, but there were other frigid glares aboard the helicopter’s hold: Kitty seemed distrustful towards both the Brotherhood’s leader and the newcomer Jean Grey as she tended to Scott, and the red-haired girl didn’t seem to like anyone who accidentally met her hard green eyes. _‘It was definitely a good call to send that Logan guy ahead on one of the trucks.’_

The most likely cause of the dampened mood, however, was undoubtedly the presence of Steve Rogers’ corpse at the very back of the stealth helicopter. Wrapped in a tarpaulin as it was, the body drew glances from just about every occupants from minute to minute and had, in the later hours of the flight, begun to emit a light odour that made it impossible to ignore. Peter had realized the importance of taking the body along with them, if not for merely sentimental reasons also so as to deny their enemies a chance to further study the man’s Super Soldier blood, but that reality didn’t make the journey any less morbid.

The fact that he and Felicia were keeping their masks on the whole time so as to keep their identity a secret from Scott and Kitty made the flight a veritable nightmare.

“Fifteen minutes to our destination,” Natasha announced in a flat voice. Peter remembered her face when she had first laid eyes on the Winter Soldier’s dead body as it was carried into the command centre by the blue-skinned woman – her cool and composed professional veneer collapsing for just a second into a harrowed expression of bitter sadness. _‘There was something there, something beyond just friendship – it wasn’t hard to see. Maybe it was only in its early stages, but still…’_ He couldn’t help but feel ashamed at having doubted whether the Russian woman could pull herself together enough to safely pilot the Blackbird to its destination.

As for himself, the turn of events had been particularly hard to swallow. Peter could still vividly recall the honest talk he had enjoyed with Steve the previous evening, and he initially had some trouble acquainting that memory with the reality of the man’s death. It had hit him hard at first – not just as the death of someone he had known personally for a few days, but also as a figure he had grown up hearing about and admiring. Captain America had been an ideal to strive for, and he had fallen in battle against the same nation that had turned its back and taken everything away from him.

Scott and Kitty were also affected by the soldier’s death, though both spent the majority of the journey passed out from exhaustion and barely showed it. Peter wished dearly that he could talk with them as a friend, but a gut instinct urged him not to share his secret identity with any more people than was necessary. Both had been through traumatic, albeit very distinct situations in the Savage Land and he regretted having to keep his distance rather than helping them. Magneto, on the other hand, seemed to have taken a great interest in Scott and, after promising to make a proper visor out of the metallic blindfold that he was once again forced to wear, had urged both him and Kitty to join the mutant nation on Genosha. While they said they still needed to think about it, the choice hardly seemed like a difficult one: Xavier predicted that as soon as the government figured out how best to censor the more gruesome aspects of the Xavier Institute they would be quick to make a public statement about the terrorist attack on the facility that had led to the deaths of countless guards, doctors and soldiers so as to further turn the populace against them. Lehnsherr, however, had seemed unfazed as he revealed that he had already enacted a plan to leak photographs and statements about the Savage Land to the press ahead of the state narrative.

Although he had initially trusted the man despite his doubts, Peter now heavily suspected that there was far more to Erik Lehnsherr that met the eye. The man’s methods seemed to clash with Xavier’s, despite their philosophies running parallel to each other, and still he proclaimed that he would lead Genosha hand-in-hand with his old colleague. _‘He’s a skilled manipulator, that’s for sure – but would any other kind of man have managed to pull off what he did?’_ Magneto had revealed plans built upon plans during the operation, many of them completely hidden from other members of his organization, and had managed to pull off most of them seamlessly. To boot, he had adapted to the situation quickly with whatever resources were available, such as Scott’s powers. All this contrasted strongly with Xavier, who seemed more akin to a therapist or a teacher as he tried to put all the younger mutants at ease about the unfolding events and seemed to be far more preoccupied with the consequences borne by their actions. _‘Somehow, I doubt that they’ll have a particularly equal relationship.’_ Peter had wanted to interact with the man after so much had been undertaken to ensure his freedom, but Xavier spent the entirety of the trip talking with either Magneto or the blue-skinned mutant at his side who received so many curious glances from Kurt.

When the helicopter finally touched down in Minnesota once more, it was at a noticeably different farmstead than the one they had briefly stopped in on their journey to Wyoming. The Blackbird had most certainly proven its worth as a state-of-the-art stealth aircraft – there was no sign whatsoever upon their arrival that they had been tracked or detected en route. After the freedom fighters had helped the owner of the farmstead hide the vehicle in another large barn Magneto declared that a funeral would shortly be held for Steve Rogers, and that they should all take some time for themselves until then. Most mutants dispersed to relax or be alone after the day’s harrowing events, and Peter figured that it would be best to wait until after the burial to speak with the leader of the Brotherhood about what would happen next. He and Felicia made their way to an apple orchard at the edge of the homestead where, finally, they removed their masks and breathed in the cool air.

“Holy shit,” Felicia gasped, dropping her head as she sat heavily on an old hay cart. “I thought I was gonna die on that flight.”

“Tell me about it.”

“Why did those two have to board the helicopter?” She rubbed her temples. “I mean, I get it, but… that was awful.”

Peter nodded and took a seat next to her, making the cart rock creakily for a moment. “So, I finally get to ask: how did it go?”

“What? Defending that command centre?”

“Yeah.”

“It was pretty easy,” she said, leaning back on her elbows as she looked up at the cloudy sky. “We did get hit a few times, but they were always just those guards… they barely ever had guns. Natasha made easy work of most of them before I could even do much, to be honest. Still, I get why they put me there. What about you?”

“Nothing to really brag about. Once we dropped the signal on those suppression collars the whole place was screwed. I guess this was one of those plans where if you get the first part right, the rest just falls into place.”

She nodded. “It was all that helicopter. I don’t think anyone at the Savage Land thought you could sneak a freaking stealth chopper right up to that place and break in directly. I’d bet money that the command centre usually had the most security of all the prison’s sections. So it’s thanks to the Blackbird that it all went off without a hitch. I mean, except for what happened to Rogers…”

“Yeah,” he nodded, before frowning. “I mean, you say that, but if not for Scott it would’ve all fallen apart.”

“I heard about all that.” She reached out and grabbed his hand. “It sounded like a real mess out there.”

“I’m glad you didn’t see it. It was…” He shook his head and leaned against the side of the cart. “A lot of people died really suddenly. Maybe… I don’t know, maybe as many as a hundred people, probably more.”

“The soldiers?”

“Right.”

“We didn’t have a choice, the way I understood it.”

“You’re right, we didn’t. But it still doesn’t sit well with me.” He grimaced at the memory. “I don’t know if we could have done something differently. But Scott’s power – it was out of control or something. I don’t think he intended to vaporize the whole convoy like that. And Magneto…”

“What?”

“Actually, you should have seen his face when he looked at Scott. After it all happened.” Peter frowned. “Like a dad whose kid had just won a baseball cup or something. Then everyone started cheering…” He shook his head.

“It was war.” She squeezed his hand. “You don’t get to break into the Savage Land without expecting something like this to happen.”

“I know, and I don’t regret what we did.” He gazed at the grey clouds overhead. “But I still don’t like it. I think we did something good, but…”

“Ah, I get it.” Felicia sat up and smiled. “You’re scared I want to see this mutant revolution train to its final destination, aren’t you? That I’ll become a Brotherhood guerrilla fighter?”

“What? No.”

“That so?” Felicia suddenly sat up to look directly into his eyes. “So, how about you? Are you done helping the mutant cause?”

Peter hesitated for a moment, unsure of how to word his response. “It’s not like I don’t care. I do, and I’m proud of what I did today.”

“Even though you’re not a mutant?”

“You know that doesn’t matter to me. It was the right thing to do.”

“Hmm, good answer,” she purred playfully. “But we both know there’s a bit more to it than just that.”

“Oh, is that so?”

“I’m not denying what you said. But Scott and Kitty were a big part of your reason for doing this, weren’t they?” She brought a gloved finger up to his chin. “And maybe... a certain mutant girlfriend of yours?”

“Felicia-”

The white-haired girl suddenly leaned in and kissed him, taking Peter by surprise. Even though he felt far from presentable after the long flight, he returned the embrace as if by instinct, holding her tightly. The old cart beneath them creaked as they shifted closer to each other, still holding hands tightly.

When their lips finally parted, Felicia leaned against him as she rested her head on his shoulder.

“Peter,” she said softly, “I want to go home.”

“What?”

“You heard me. This whole freedom fighter thing… I don’t think I could do much more of it. I mean, I’m glad I did what I did, but I don’t think I’m cut out for it. I miss our flat.”

“So do I.”

“Glad we’re on the same page. I just wanted to make that clear before you… I don’t know.” She shrugged gently. “I didn’t want you to think I’m stepping away from all this because of you.”

“You’re too kind, my lady.”

“I really am, aren’t I?” She grinned and raised her head. “Do you think it counts as a tumble in the hay if it’s just on a hay cart?”

“Seriously?” Peter’s cheeks almost instantly reddened. “Right here? Now?”

“Pfft, I’m messing with you,” she laughed, elbowing his arm lightly. “We’ll save the post-battle coitus for when we’re back home, okay?”

Steve Rogers’ funeral was a modest affair, but also one that was preceded by a great deal of discussion. Lehnsherr and Xavier spent long hours in the farm’s homestead debating whether to bury the body right there, preserve it for later interment in Genosha, or even outright cremate the remains so as to ensure that the man’s remains could never fall into the wrong hands. Ultimately, it was decided to honour the man’s memory with a small funeral in the nation that he, despite everything, had called home until the end and to later hold a more ceremonial event in the mutant nation once the escapees from the Savage Land had safely made their way there. Piotr and Raven Darkhölme volunteered to dig out a grave and, lacking the tools or time with which to create a proper coffin, the war hero was simply cleaned up and reverentially wrapped in multiple layers of tarp and cloth. His scarred shield, it was agreed, would be taken to Genosha as a memento and national keepsake.

Everyone who had made it back from the rescue operation to the Savage Land stood around as Piotr carefully lowered the Winter Soldier’s body into its grave in a corner of the farmstead that overlooked a nearby forest. The sky had turned a light grey in the afternoon hours and brought with it a chill wind, but everyone still wore the same clothes that they had donned for battle that morning; only the rescued mutants had been given a change of clothes by the owner of the farmstead. Peter and Felicia observed the proceedings through their masks as Magneto stepped out from among the crowd to address them.

“Some of you may see Steve Rogers’ death as a loss,” the grey-haired man began in his powerful voice. “A terrible loss – that is usually how it is described. I don’t prescribe to that notion. Steve Rogers, from the moment he enlisted into this nation’s army to his final mission in the name of mutant liberation, knew that all such noble crusades could often incur a cost.” His cold eyes swept across the assembled mutants as he spoke. “Not a sacrifice, not a trade-off, but a cost. And it does not matter whether you believe in destiny or sheer chance – the result is ultimately the same. However, with all costs comes a reward, and Steve Rogers’ reward was the future of Genosha and mutantkind. Thus, so long as mutant hearts beat in our nation he will never be forgotten. Every stone we lay down, every seed we plant will be a direct recompense of the price that he paid, and that is why I say he will never be forgotten – his legacy will be everywhere we look, forevermore.”

Several of the mutants nodded approvingly at the man’s words as Charles Xavier made his way over to his side. Turning to face the entire group, he raised his head and presented them with a sad, exhausted expression.

“Those were fine words, Erik. Thank you. However, I can tell even without my powers what many of you are thinking – what was it all for?” His gaze settled on Peter for a brief moment as he spoke. “For our cause to have rescued and recruited the famed Captain America, only for him to fall in such a tragic way – it truly is life at its cruellest, and it is all too easy to become fixated on this particular moment of loss. Steve Rogers, however, did so much more for us than just fight the enemies of Genosha with force of arms. His very presence inspired mutants across the world to rally to our cause, and brought hope to the hearts of all who could no longer see any. His very presence amongst us sparked the flame that would guide us towards freedom – and therein lays Steve Rogers’ true legacy, and his contribution to our revolution. He could have sat back and watched as events unfolded before him, but he was a man of action first and foremost and did what he thought to be right until the very end. I have taken his actions to heart and now seek to find a way for Genosha to assert its liberty through something greater than just idle pacifism or aggressive action. I wish only that I could have thanked the man in person for all he has done.”

From the corner of his eye, Peter noticed Natasha bite her lip a second before she turned her gaze towards the darkening horizon.

It was late mid-afternoon by the time the mutants present stepped away from the grave. Having agreed with Felicia upon their course of action, Peter hurried to catch up with Lehnsherr, who was heading in the direction of the apple orchard alongside Xavier.

“Mr. Lehnsherr,” he called out, making both men stop and turn towards him. “A word, please.”

“So formal, Peter. We’ve fought side by side as brothers in arms.” Magneto chuckled upon seeing the young man flinch as his name was mentioned. “Come now, you’re in the presence of the world’s greatest telepath and Genosha’s future leader. Do not fret over your secret identity when amongst friends.”

Hesitating for a moment, Peter removed his mask and smiled apologetically. “Sorry. I’m in the habit of keeping it a closely-guarded secret.”

“That is what makes you stand out from the rest of us, Peter Parker,” Xavier said, smiling gently. “Through your discipline and your values you have maintained a public persona while the rest of us resorted to hiding and subterfuge, and have thus gained greater acceptance from the world at large. You have nothing to apologize for.”

“Uh… thank you.”

“I had been wanting to make your acquaintance,” the old man continued, “but it seems like your presence in our company is now coming to an end.”

Peter nodded, not letting the mind-reading faze him. “That’s right.”

“I thought you would seek to return home quickly,” Lehnsherr said, “though I confess that I hoped you might choose to come to Genosha with us.”

“The thought had crossed my mind, but Black Cat and I talked things over.” He shrugged. “We’d like to try and return to our lives in New York. If that’s possible.”

“I’m sure Peter Parker will be able to do so,” the leader of the Brotherhood said. “But as for Spider-Man… do you believe your change of uniform will suffice?”

“I don’t know.” Peter took a deep breath. “I wish I knew. The webbing was still black, so I don’t think the change will hold up much if they release stills.”

“That much still remains to be seen,” Xavier nodded. “The next few days will be extremely busy indeed for the United States government.”

“As for your return home,” Lehnsherr piped in, reaching into a satchel on his belt and withdrawing a stack of cash, “we will take care of it. The Blackbird will remain here, so as to minimize the risk of detection, but you can catch a flight or a train from Minneapolis.”

“That’s fine, really,” Peter said, shaking his head. “We brought our own money. We can manage.”

“Please,” the grey-haired man said firmly. “This is the least I can do after all you’ve done for us. Indulge me.”

Nodding, he hesitatingly accepted the money, which at a glance amounted to a few thousand dollars. “We never expected payment for our help.”

“I never implied that it was. Think of it, rather, as an invitation.”

“An invitation?”

“For a visit to Oslo and, from there, Genosha.” He smiled again. “There will always be a place for you and your partner there, Peter.”

“Thank you.”

The grey-haired man suddenly patted him on the shoulder. “What you did today will forever be etched in mutant history. The road before us is still a long one, but we have accomplished what we set out to do – the Savage Land is no more, and your friends are free. We have achieved an immense victory.”

“As for Mr. Summers and Ms. Pryde,” Xavier added, “you may want to visit them without your mask before you leave.”

Peter nodded, understanding. “They’re going to Genosha with you, aren’t they?”

“Yes. We’ll be here for a while, reorganizing ourselves, and will stop by our base in Newburgh en route to the Atlantic, but it is unlikely that you will see them in New York ever again.”

“The same applies for us, naturally,” Lehnsherr said, holding out a hand. “Though I hope that we may meet again in better times.”

“Likewise,” said Peter, shaking both their hands. “I’ll let Black Cat know, she’ll want to stop by to say her farewells too.”

“Still so cautious, Peter,” Magneto smiled. “May your victories be many in the days to come.”

After excusing himself from the two older men, Peter sought out Felicia and let her know what had been discussed. She seemed above all else relieved to be able to keep her mask off around yet more people and headed off to announce her departure. When asked if she might want to say goodbye to Scott and Kitty, however, she had declined by saying that she had never known them too well in the first place.

The two mutants were sitting on a bench at the homestead’s veranda when Peter finally found them. He summoned his mask and restored his suit’s original colours before he approached, not wanting to shock them unduly. He had almost reached them when he noticed Jean Grey lounging on a rocking chair by the other end of the house as she regarded the clouds above her. _‘She really never is too far away from Scott, huh? Well, what’s one more member of the Brotherhood knowing my identity.’_

“Hey there,” he called out awkwardly as he neared them.

“It’s Spider-Man,” Kitty said, lightly shaking Scott’s arm. She had tied her brown hair back into the same kind of ponytail that she had always sported in New York. “Hey yourself.”

“How are you both feeling?” _‘Man, this feels pretty weird.’_

“Better, a lot better. Thank you so much for your help. We had no idea that you were in the Brotherhood.”

“It was just a one-time thing, really. But it had to be done.”

Scott frowned under the apparatus covering his eyes and leaned forward. “I’m sorry, but your voice… have we met before?”

 _‘Wow, not bad, buddy. Well, here we go then.’_ “We have. That’s why I came over here… I heard you were going to Genosha and wanted to say farewell.” He took a deep breath. “I’m going to remove my mask now, and I just want to warn you both: I’m someone you knew from university.”

“Okay.” Scott smiled wryly. “I guess Kitty will have to describe you to me. Are you sure about this?”

“Yeah,” Peter nodded. “We were good friends when we knew each other, so it’s only right. Well… here I go.” With a thought he removed the mask and smiled nervously as he stood before them.

“Ahaha,” Kitty suddenly grinned as she leaned back on the bench. “Peter Parker. I should’ve known. Jesus.”

“Peter?” Scott raised his eyebrows and looked towards him. “That was my guess because of the voice, but… wow.”

The couple’s relatively muted reactions startled him slightly. “You don’t sound so surprised.”

“Oh, we are! Trust me, how couldn’t we be?” Kitty’s eyes were gleaming, as if the entire situation amused her greatly. “It’s just, you were actually one of our suspects for being Spider-Man – always disappearing mysteriously in the evenings. So maybe we kind of prepared ourselves for this, haha.”

“Peter,” Scott said, suddenly standing up and taking a step towards him. “Jesus, I don’t… where are you?”

Peter took a step forward and touched his shoulder, a second later feeling the mutant embrace him in a tight hug. Although surprised, he hugged his friend back and patted him on the back.

“Jesus Christ,” Scott said, his voice choked with emotion, “I’m so glad that you’re okay.”

“Hey, that’s my line.”

“Is everyone else…” He took a step back, giving him some space. “Is MJ okay?”

“Yeah. Everyone’s fine.”

“Good, good. I always wondered…” The mutant shook his head and suddenly smiled. “But, Spider-Man? Could this day get any crazier?”

“I sure as hell hope not.”

“So… this means you’re a mutant, too?”

“Right,” he lied, opting for an easy narrative over the more convoluted one. “Ever since my last year of high school.”

“But you’re not coming to Genosha?”

“No. I’m going back to New York, along with Black Cat.”

“Why?” Kitty stood up and walked over to them. “You’ll be living in constant fear, and the people there will despise you. Why would you return?”

“We thought we’d test the waters a bit, see how things pan out. I guess it’s just hard to let go of that place, despite everything.”

“Not for me,” Scott hissed, shaking his head. “New York can rot for all I care.”

“What about your families?”

“We’ll let them know once we’re there,” Kitty said. “I’m sure the police are already watching them closely, so there’s no point until then. I’m sure they’ll understand, though.”

“So you’re leaving right away?” There was a hint of sadness in Scott’s question.

“Yeah. Sorry, it’s just… like I said, we want things to go back to how they were as soon as possible.”

“I hope that works out for you.” He shrugged. “It’s too bad, though. I was hoping we could finish our Arnold marathon together.”

“Oh, just wait until you see that Colossus guy, he-” Peter suddenly stopped and bit his lip. “Sorry.”

“It’s fine, don’t worry about it.” Scott grinned. “Kitty already told me he looks just like Arnold. Can’t wait to see for myself.”

“Sure… but I thought…”

“Magneto said some of the mutants in Genosha are geniuses, professors from universities and whatnot. He assured me someone there would figure out a way for me to see without… you know.”

Peter nodded. “That was really something, what you did in the Xavier Institute.”

“Yeah. I don’t know what happened there, I’ve never fired off a blast of energy like that before. Maybe it had something to do with the experiments…” He shook his head. “But I don’t regret it. I’m glad I could help in some way, and I want to keep doing so.”

“Hm. And your arm?” He gestured at the bandages covering his right forearm. “What happened there?”

“Oh, that’s a pretty morbid story.”

“Sorry, I didn’t-”

“No, hey. What mutant doesn’t have a morbid story to share about the Savage Land?” He smiled sadly. “You might have noticed that the energy from my powers didn’t just blast right through my eyelids when Kitty removed this thing, right?”

“I guess.”

“Well, so did the doctors at that place. They thought it might have something to do with my skin, so…” He glanced blindly at his bandaged arm. “Guess they needed some samples.”

“Jesus. Scott, I...” Peter almost felt sick with regret. “I’m sorry I-”

“Come on, man. You have nothing to apologize for. What, were you going to break in there all on your own? You stormed that place with the Brotherhood and got us all out.” Scott grinned. “You’re a real hero, Peter Parker. Make no damn mistake about that.”

He was about to reply when Kurt and Piotr rounded the corner of the homestead and made their way towards the group. Both of them had changed into cleaner, more comfortable clothes after the funeral. “Hey, members of the Brotherhood are approaching. Don’t use my real name, okay?”

Scott grinned. “Your secret’s safe with us, Spider-Man.”

Kurt waved and ran ahead of his comrade towards them. “I heard from Black Cat that you’re leaving, Spider-Man. It’s a shame that you won’t come with us.”

“Spider-Man and New York go together like ham and cheese,” Piotr said good-humouredly. “It cannot be helped, Kurt. At least not until we have built a few skyscrapers in Genosha.”

“That’s right,” Peter laughed. “I don’t think I’m ready to move just yet. I’ll keep it in mind, though.”

“I hope you do.” He held out a hand towards him. “It was an honour, Spider-Man. May we fight side by side once again.”

“Hope it doesn’t come to that, but yeah,” he shook Piotr’s hand, then Kurt’s. “I’m glad I got to know you guys. Hard to believe I met you in Beck’s basement just over a week ago.”

“Same here. I hope everything works out for you, Spider-Man,” Kurt said. “The farmer helping us out said he’d drive you to the nearest bus stop once you got cleaned up. You can take a shower in the second floor of the house, just by the stairs.”

“Got it, thanks. I’ll do that, then.” He turned towards Scott and Kitty as he started making his way towards the homestead. “I’ll see you all again just before we leave.”

After Peter and Felicia had gathered their belongings from the Blackbird’s storage compartment they took turns cleaning themselves up and changing back into more presentable clothes. The white-haired girl had to spend a while longer cleaning up her uniform before they dispersed its components between their two rucksacks, so as to minimize suspicion in case they ran into a security check. The couple had no choice but to return to New York by train, in light of having found it more prudent not to embark upon a dangerous rescue mission with their passports on hand, but neither of them particularly dreaded the trip after having spent such long periods of time aboard a helicopter.

When it was finally time to leave, the couple once again said their farewells to all the gathered members of the Brotherhood. Most of them were there to see them off, with the exception of Natasha and Raven. Even Jean Grey, who slowly seemed to be returning to a semblance of normalcy, shook their hands and thanked them for their help.

“Until we meet again, then,” Lehnsherr said as they got into the car. “Remember, you will both always be friends and citizens of Genosha. If you should ever require help, well,” he smiled, “you’ll know where to find us. Just contact Quentin.”

“Thank you.” Peter returned the smile. “It was an honour.”

As the door was shut and the car drove out towards the farmstead’s main entrance, the couple took one last glance back as the Brotherhood of Mutants disappeared amidst the waning twilight.


	10. Chapter 10

**One Month Later**

Peter enjoyed the burst of cool air as he let the momentum of his swing drive him upwards with enough speed for his body to be buffeted by the wind. He treasured the cool feeling, having noticed a sharp rise in temperature over the past few days as spring steadily gave way to summer. _‘The city is usually grossly warm regardless of season, but this is where things get intense.’_ He had just let go of the previous web and grabbed onto a newly-fired one when a ruckus from below caught his attention. Careful not to lose his grip, he glanced down at the large gathering of people filling up the large street below. _‘Wow, another protest already? Good on them.’_

The Brotherhood’s information leak relating to the Xavier Institute had been a resounding success, and a harrowing nightmare for the United States government; Magneto had either seriously understated or underestimated the effect that the public release of photos, videos and testimonies would have on the public. People had already taken to the streets in outrage and indignation by the time the press rolled out the official story about a terrorist attack on the prison which had resulted in the tragic deaths of countless public servants and soldiers, and the situation only got worse for the administration by the day, especially in light of their inability to explain away Tony Stark’s sudden reappearance in Oslo to again publically denounce his own nation’s actions before quickly going off the radar once more. The turnout had been small at first, but even amidst all the anti-mutant sentiment the cries for an explanation grew to a country-wide call which included great marches in the larger cities.

The President and his cabinet had, as was to be expected of such a one-sided story, handled the situation with a level of bumbling incompetence that bordered on the criminal. Official stories that changed almost day to day, denials of irrefutable proof and a complete failure to provide evidence of their own innocence painted them into a corner without escape. The death blow was delivered by none other than Charles Xavier as he denounced the government’s actions on video from an undisclosed location. He revealed Raven’s abilities as a shapeshifter and explained that she had been extorted into impersonating him so as to draw mutants into the Xavier Institute, where they were imprisoned and experimented on against their will. A day after a few major channels picked up his video and aired it there was hardly so much as a single detractor to the anti-state movement in the whole country. Marches turned violent as protesters clashed with the police, a trial was set in motion to indict the President, and the amount of denouncements and criticisms from other nations seemed to reach a fever pitch without end in sight.

Somehow, however, there was not even a single mention of Spider-Man amidst all these historical events.

The fact that Peter had actually thought himself important enough for the government to go out of its way in the face of wholesale collapse to ruin his image embarrassed him to no end, but it was nonetheless the best result he could possibly have wished for. He was now practically hailed as a hero from the people on the street for being one of the only mutants brave enough to continue acting in public despite the police’s opposition, and many protesters even invited him down to take part in their marches. He had indulged them on occasion by nervously speaking a few select lines such as ‘Freedom to all mutants’ or ‘Admit to your wrongs’ through a megaphone, but had at first been wary of making an outright enemy of the government. It was only a short while later that he realized that a public disclosure of his activities in the Savage Land would only make him even more popular among the protesters, whom he began to regularly visit with flashy acrobatics as he swung by overhead. He still debated whether or not he should intervene when their clashes with the police turned violent, the latter of whom hadn’t made any sort of public declaration against him in an attempt to not further provoke public contempt.

 _‘Somehow, this all turned out better than in my wildest freakin’ dreams.’_ Peter could still remember the sense of dread and foreboding he’d felt on his and Felicia’s long trip from Minneapolis to New York, but by the time they had made it back home it was clear who had won the public relations war. They had enjoyed dinner at Aunt May’s house that week free of fears and feeling satisfied that their actions had resulted in far-ranging consequences that could only be for the better. The couple had only waited for two days upon their return before they had resumed their regular alter ego activities, and it was only after doing so that he realised how much the thought of giving up his crimefighting ways had terrified him.

Opting not to get involved in the protest due to his plans for the evening, Peter turned a corner and made his way down a smaller and quieter street as the evening sun began its descent behind the veritable forest of buildings. Glancing down at a clock hung by a storefront, he confirmed that he still had plenty of time to return to his apartment. _‘Better head back home to get changed, then – wouldn’t want to keep Felicia waiting.’_ Getting his bearings, he turned another corner and headed directly towards Queens.

“Holy shit,” Felicia snorted, abruptly tugging at Peter’s elbow as they approached the Parker household arm-in-arm. “That’s the freaking gnome from your old house!”

“Yeah.” He smiled wryly. “Didn’t you notice it last time?”

“Are you kidding me? Gnomes are masters of disguise.” She leaned down to get a better look at it. “Not a scratch on it – do you know how rare that is around here? And you’ve had this damn thing since we were kids.”

“So it’s a one-in-a-million garden gnome?”

“You bet. I wouldn’t even dream of touching that thing, it’s like a sports car made of gold or something.”

The front door to the house suddenly opened as May Parker stepped out through the threshold. “Well now, I thought I heard you two sneaking around out here.”

“Hey Aunt May,” Peter said, smiling at her. “Felicia’s just admiring our ancestral guardian spirit.”

“Shh!” The white-haired girl elbowed him lightly and looked towards the older woman. “Sorry, garden gnomes just crack me up…”

“Why do you think I got him?” May grinned fondly. “I think I’ve had that old fellow since the eighties… Ben always insisted on keeping him whenever we moved.”

“Definitely a good call,” Felicia laughed. “You should make it a family heirloom.”

“Oh, you’re certainly welcome to inherit him, just as soon as you get a home with a garden.” She stepped into the house and motioned for them to follow. “Come on, now, no point standing around out there any longer.”

Peter felt a warm sense of peacefulness as he stepped into his aunt’s house which resembled her old one in so many ways. Family pictures, many of which included Uncle Ben at various stages of his life, lined the walls of the living room and reminded him of how much the man had enjoyed commemorating just about every occasion with his old camera. _‘This place looks better and better every time we visit – seems like Aunt May finally feels at home again.’_

Felicia noticed what he was looking at and leaned in to scrutinize one of the pictures. “Well, well, I don’t think I noticed this one the last time we were here.”

May turned back and looked at the framed photo in question. “Ah, that’s because I just put it up last week. I’ve been doing a lot of redecorating. That’s Peter with his parents… he can’t have been older than five.”

Peter grimaced, though he couldn’t help but feel a tinge of nostalgia at the sight of his father and mother. “Are we really gonna kick off the evening looking at family photos?”

“Why not?” Felicia grinned fiendishly. “Look, here’s us in Disneyland! God, I almost forgot about that trip.”

“How could you? I fainted from heat stroke when the guy in the Mickey Mouse suit tried to give me a high five. Stuff like that stays with a man forever.”

“That’s one of my favourites,” Aunt May said. “You were both ten. Now look at you…” She smiled as she regarded the couple. “Ben would’ve been so happy to see you two together. He was always so sure that it would happen…”

Peter took a step away from the photo wall and cleared his throat, blushing lightly. “Well, when was Uncle Ben ever wrong? Though he could be a little on the nose at times.”

“You have no idea,” Felicia laughed, leaning her shoulder against his. “The number of times he asked me to take good care of you almost made think you would barely even survive a day on your own.”

“Alright, you two, we can keep reminiscing while we eat.” May waved her hands towards the dining room. “Take a seat while I finish preparing the food.”

As the three of them talked and laughed over dinner, Peter tried not to get caught up in the thought of how incredibly lucky he actually was in light of all that he had seen in recent days. _‘I get to sit down like this for a meal with my aunt and my girlfriend just weeks after travelling across the country to break into the Xavier Institute. It’s almost hard to believe that all the events in that hellish place really transpired.’_ With the couple’s want for justice and proactive action having been sated by their participation in the mission and all the subsequent events that had occurred as a direct result worldwide, he could only marvel in hindsight at the enormity of what had been achieved; the fact that the public now accepted Spider-Man more than ever before was just the cherry on top.

Peter couldn’t help but wonder how the families of all the mutants who had fled to Genosha now fared. _‘They were all broken apart by the way the government went about the mutant issue – but still, I read that a lot of families disowned inmates to the Savage Land of their own accord, out of fear and revulsion.’_ He looked at Aunt May, who was animatedly recounting some anecdote from her youth to Felicia. _‘I wonder how she’d react if I told her I was Spider-Man? I chose to keep it to myself to spare her a need to fear for my safety on a daily basis, but maybe I was just afraid of how she would respond? I’ll have to tell her at some point – it’s not like I want to keep that secret from her for the rest of our lives.’_ He sighed lightly, wondering when a good opportunity to speak with her about the subject might present itself.

Felicia had barely finished her dinner when she received a call from work asking her to come over in light of some sort of emergency. Although disinclined to leave, she had soon thereafter bid Aunt May farewell after thanking her for the meal and left the house in a rush. From what she had explained, a member of the gym had suffered some sort of accident with one of the machines and they wanted to have everyone who had worked that day present for questioning. As he began clearing out the table to help his aunt in the kitchen, Peter decided to fill out his evening until her return with another short patrol of Queens.

“You really lucked out with that one, Peter,” Aunt May said as they did the dishes side by side. “I’m really happy for you.”

“Thanks,” he smiled. “And yeah, at least in this regard I have all the fortune in the world.”

“How are Mary Jane and Harry?”

“They’re fine, just keeping up with classes. They get along a lot better with each other now, so that’s good.”

She nodded silently for a moment, as if searching for the right words. “Peter, if you ever want to talk about that kidnapping incident…”

“Aunt May, please.” He grimaced at the recollection of the outlandish lie he had told her to cover up his conflict with SHIELD. “It’s fine, really. That was months ago.”

“I just feel like we haven’t really gotten the chance to have a real heart to heart in a while.” She smiled sadly. “In fact, we’ve barely even talked much since Ben’s death.”

“Aunt May…” He put a dish back down on the kitchen shelf and turned towards her. “I’m sorry, you’re right. My life’s been moving along so quickly ever since finishing high school that I never really noticed.”

“Oh, Peter.” She rubbed his arm fondly. “You don’t have to apologize for anything, that’s just the way life is. But I wanted to remind you that I’m always ready to listen in case you want to talk about your problems.”

“Thanks, Aunt May.” The thought of telling her the truth about his alter ego suddenly struck him, but he pushed it aside almost impulsively. _‘Not now, not just out of the blue. But no later than the end of the year – I’ll have to settle on a day where I can just lay it all out on the table for her.’_

“We’re all done here,” she said, shutting off the faucet. “You seem to be quite lost in thought, though.”

“Sorry,” he replied quickly, trying to come up with a convincing lie. “Just thinking about Felicia. I was hoping to walk her home, so…”

“Say no more,” May smiled, leading him towards the front door. “I’m just glad that you’re visiting more often now.”

“So am I. How about we do this again in a couple of weeks?”

“I’d love to. Before you go, son,” she added, gently reaching for his shoulder, “I just want you to know how proud I am of you.”

Peter blinked, surprised. “How do you mean?”

“Gonna make me say it, huh?” She leaned against the wall behind her. “This family has been through so much loss and suffering, from your childhood until recently, but I look at you now and I see a good man who has found balance and happiness in life. To pull that off in a world like this is definitely something to be proud of, and I’m sure Ben feels the same way.”

“Aw shucks,” he grinned, trying to hide how much those words meant to him. “You’re going to make me blush, Aunt May. But thank you, really.”

“Don’t mention it. Now get going, before I come up with something even sappier to say.”

Even at such a late hour the streets below were teeming with people. Peter kept an eye out below as he swung down a series of avenues, above all else simply wanting to relax in the motion while reflecting on Aunt May’s words. Felicia had already given him a rough estimate of when she would be back at the apartment, so he opted to continue his patrol until just before she returned. Neon lights and signs illuminated the shopping area below him as he turned a corner towards an emptier, more residential district.

All in all, Peter had only been uneventfully swinging around Queens for some twenty minutes after having stored his clothes when it suddenly began.

The change was almost imperceptible at first, but before long a crawling sensation swept rhythmically across his entire body like an electric current. _‘Wow, what the hell!’_ He shuddered and almost let go of the web he was swinging on as the feeling intensified like a cold ripple that zigzagged across his body and pierced through the skin into his gut. _‘What the hell is going on!’_ His eyes widened in horror as he saw the suit on his arm vibrate and ripple visibly, like water. _‘Holy shit…’_

Suddenly terrified by the idea that his suit might malfunction in mid-swing, Peter quickly made his way towards the nearest alleyway and touched down on the ground behind a couple of overfilled garbage containers that hid him from view of the main road. He had barely taken more than a few steps when the unnerving electric tingling suddenly ramped up into a painful freezing current that made his heart race like mad, and he fell to his knees struggling for air. _‘Jesus. Jesus, the suit… oh hell, I knew something like this would happen someday…’_ Raising a hand, he stared at the black substance as it twitched wildly in a thousand different spots, like tiny rats skittering for their lives. Only in that moment did he abruptly realize with dread certainty that it wasn’t some kind of malfunction or transformation that was making the suit act up in that way, but a far more familiar and recognizable emotion: terror.

_‘I’ve felt like this before.’_

The fear spread from the suit to him, making his heart race and his throat dry up.

He almost expected the guttural voice that suddenly filled the alley all around him.

“Fffather… lllover…”

“Who’s there?!” Peter tried to stand, but fell back onto his knees. He tried to remove the suit as a sudden horror blossomed in his heart, but it wouldn’t react to his commands. “Show yourself!”

The air suddenly felt warmer, sicklier. Peter struggled for every breath as the suit constricted around his chest.

“Alllways with you… always _insidiiiide_ … I have mmmm-misssed you…”

The sound was everywhere and nowhere at once. The warm air turned humid, coating his body in sweat. A second later, he felt an intense heat across his entire back, but the suit had tightened and hardened so much that he couldn’t turn around.

 _‘I know this… I remember…’_ A parking lot, men and women screaming in desperation and fleeing like animals…

The air stank of blood.

“Ffffaaather,” said the voice right behind him.

Making an immense effort, Peter turned his head enough to look back with one eye.

The mound of flesh blinked, twitched.

The overwhelming terror somehow gave him the strength to leap away, tumbling onto the floor on his back as he regarded the creature before him in silent awe.

It was massive, well over three metres tall – a vaguely translucent cat-like creature without a tail, made of twitching, exposed muscles and small bones. It loomed on all fours as narrow milky-white eyes stared at him from its long, reptilian head. Steam appeared to be continuously rising off its skinless body, enough to seem as mist in the warm night air. _‘God… oh God.’_

Although the faraway sounds of traffic and pedestrians could still be heard in the distance, there was a deathly silence in the alleyway which was only periodically broken by the creature’s loud hissing breath.

The beast suddenly opened its long elongated mouth, which almost reached back past its eyes, and displayed a chaotic array of sharp, mismatched fangs spread across multiple rows. Thick saliva fell heavily onto the filthy asphalt as an enormous forked tongue flickered about to taste the air. The stench of death and decay that strongly emanated from within its maw was enough to finally jolt Peter into action, and he stood up with some considerable effort while raising his fists defensively.

“Prrrrraise me, fffaaaather,” the creature said without moving its mouth. “Look how I have grrrrown…”

_‘Telepathy or – or something… it’s talking directly into my mind.’_

“Wha-” Peter started, finally finding his voice. “What are you?”

“Mmmmmm, you know thisss.” The creature took a heavy step to regard him from a different angle. “I ammm your child… I am your soullll given _form_ …”

“You’re not making any sense!” An intense headache had suddenly crept up on him, and he almost felt like he might outright faint. “I haven’t… I’ve never seen-”

“I am yoursss as you are mine, mmmmmmm...” The thing licked its jowls and took another step. “I am your fleshhhh… grown and nnnn-nurtured with the flesh of otherssss...” It hissed. “I alwayssss hunger, father.”

“I… I don’t-”

“You were in the rrrrain… you were in _defeat_ and then I… I came to be, mmmm. Loverrr!” It suddenly lurched towards him, eyes widening. “Fatherrrr!”

Peter wanted to scream as he almost stumbled onto the floor, but he held his ground. He was having trouble keeping his eyes open.

The words that he spoke seemed distant, as if uttered in a dream.

“I remember…”

Something was screaming inside him – crying out for him to _flee_.

“I remember you…”

_Run, run, run, run, run-_

“Hhhhhhh, yessssss!” The voice in his mind sounded gleeful, as overjoyed as the sickly white eyes looking him over. “You hearrr it now, don’t you? Hear it _begging_?”

_Run, flee-_

“I…” _‘What is this… what…’_ “I can hear it…”

“It is the weaknessss, I am the _strength_ …” The creature was now close enough that he could again feel its overwhelming heat spreading across his body. “And you are the soulll and the flesh as one… that is why I love you, fatherrrr.”

_It is malice, death… viscera… run…_

Peter blinked, took a deep breath. _‘Am I losing my fucking mind?’_ His body now felt completely frozen in place, every muscle refusing his heartfelt desire to escape from that alley.

He swallowed painfully. “What do you want?”

“You, father. Alllllways you, mmmmm.” The tongue emerged once more from its mouth as it stood mere inches from his body. “But laterrr… later we will love. Firrrrst, you must be warned…”

The voice deep within his soul suddenly fell silent, leaving in its wake a cold, deathly stillness.

“Warned of what?”

“He is heeeeere.” Another step as the beast lurched past him. “After minutes and minutes and yeaaaarrs, oh father… I can _feel_ him…”

Peter was astonished that he could somehow keep up with the monster’s nonsense. “Who?”

“The hunterrr… the Korbinite.” The beast was now somewhere behind him, having left his periphery. “He knowsss… so we must devour him. Then, loverrrrr… then we feast on this world. Togetherrr…”

“Hunter? Korbinite?” Strength was suddenly returning to his arms, and he raised his fists once more. “I don’t understand…”

“Masterrr yourself soon… and I will find you. Let us seek out a hossst then, mmmmmm. We will feast yet…”

As the unbearable heat finally vanished from his body, Peter suddenly felt himself regaining full control of his limbs. Clenching his jaw, he turned in place to confront the creature, only to stare upon the dark, empty alleyway. Blinking, he cautiously took a step towards the apartment building on the far end of the alley, feeling the suit calming down and steadily returning back to normalcy with every passing second. _‘Jesus… was all that just a fever dream? A freak hallucination?’_ As much as he wanted to believe that that was the case, the thin and irregular trail of saliva before him indicated otherwise.

He had almost reached the end of the alleyway when the trail ended in an open manhole, its lid haphazardly discarded by a pile of garbage bags. Peter blinked at the sight in confusion, not daring to move any closer. _‘There’s no way it could’ve fit in there… nor could it have made it into the sewers so quickly before I turned around. Jesus, this makes no fucking sense.’_ Every fibre of his being warned him to stay away from the darkness within the manhole, and a moment later he carefully stepped away from it. His mind was still abuzz from the spike in terror and confusion, and the wretched feeling was only worsened by his persistent headache. _‘I can’t even begin to… oh.’_ Falling to his knees, Peter removed his mask moments before a tidal wave of nausea forced him to vomit. Gagging, he squeezed his eyes shut and pounded a fist on the floor. _‘God… what’s happening to me? What was that voice?’_

Peter didn’t make a move to leave the alleyway as he leaned against a wall and glanced up at the darkened skies. The smell of blood lingered in his nostrils as the suit finally seemed to return to its regular condition. Resisting the urge to unsummon it instantly, he held out a hand and stared at his palm. _‘You should have known something like this could happen someday, Peter Parker. Wearing a biological suit of alien origin… how stupid could you possibly be?’_ He recalled the disembodied voice that he had heard before – the one stemming from deep within his very being, rather than that of the creature’s telepathic communication. Focussing, he clenched his fist and tried to bring order to the chaotic memories that had suddenly careened through his mind at the monster’s urging.

 _‘Yeah. I do remember now.’_ Incorporeal sights, as if they had been witnessed from within a body rather than by a pair of eyes, sounds, scents – it was a blur, but he could finally make sense of it. _‘I lost control – back when I was attacked at the ESU campus. I let the suit take over or transform…’_ Vague images of combat and fire came to mind like a blurry slideshow, followed by a deep sense of fear and despair. _‘I fled… I didn’t kill anyone. Maybe I regained control, and that was when Felicia found me.’_ He frowned, noticing that something was amiss. It took him several seconds, but on the furthest edge of his memory he recalled a conversation of some sort.

 _‘I talked with it. With the suit. Jesus Christ.’_ He continued to stare at the biological entity enveloping his skin. _‘I had a freaking talk with this thing. About…’_ He swallowed nervously. _‘It told me how to get back control… said I had to get rid of the part of it that had taken over.’_ He clearly remembered Felicia mentioning a large, bleeding gash on his leg when she found him unconscious in that warehouse. He had simply assumed at the time that it was an injury resultant from his battle, but in retrospect the grisly truth was all too obvious. _‘I created that thing – the suit and I. Jesus, Mary and Joseph.’_ He took a deep, shuddering breath. _‘It said it was my flesh or something… so a part of the suit took off with a part of my leg and… grew?’_ The thought sickened him, almost to the point of making him nauseous enough to vomit.

 _‘Oh man, this is bad. This is – what if it’s killed people? It said that it hungered…’_ Peter recalled reading about a grisly serial killer in the weeks preceding the operation to the Savage Land, and with the thought of the latter came the realization that he had felt a similar discomfort from his suit around the time he and Felicia had first visited Beck’s apartment. _‘Fucking hell… it was there. I thought it was just goosebumpbs, but it was that thing, following me the whole time…’_

Seized by a sudden urge to return to his apartment, Peter finally broke out of his horrified reverie and webbed his way out of the dark alleyway. _‘Gotta get back to my stuff... Felicia needs to know about this immediately.’_ Still unsure of how to proceed after that with such as bizarre situation, he reasoned that his best course of action would be to begin searching the sewers for the creature as soon as he could, before it took any lives.

_‘I just wish I knew how to stand up to that thing without both me and the suit being terrified witless.’_

Peter didn’t have to wait long after his arrival for Felicia to return home. He had had just enough time to take a shower and order his thoughts, but the white-haired girl still arrived before he could come up with a satisfying way of bringing up what was on his mind. He waved to her from the living room sofa that had once doubled as their bed and watched as she locked the door behind her.

“Already done with your patrol?” She kicked off her sneakers and made her way over to him. “At least you actually had something productive to do after dinner.”

“Uh, yeah,” he said, smiling wryly. “Yeah, I guess you could say that.”

Felicia slumped down on the other end of the sofa and scrutinized him, as if she could immediately tell that something was amiss.

“What’s wrong, Peter?”

“Well, now that you ask…” Clearing his throat, he leaned forward and fixed his eyes on her. “How would you feel if I told you that I just ran into a terrifying monster spawned from a mix of my blood and the suit’s matter?”

It took some convincing but, after Peter had brushed aside her jokes about his story and insisted on its veracity, Felicia quickly came around to believing him. She listened raptly as he described its appearance, the things it had said, and his theories on how the creature came to be. All in all it took him less than ten minutes to go through it all, but by the end of it Peter felt like he had only described a tiny fraction some hidden and far greater, more horrifying truth.

Felicia was silent for a long moment as she processed the information, before she simply took a deep breath and leaned further back on the sofa.

“That’s… wow. Pretty unbelievable stuff.”

“Yeah.”

“Except, when it comes to that alien suit you’re wearing, nothing’s really outside the realm of believability.” She frowned. “So it split off and now has its own consciousness?”

“Looks that way. I dunno,” he looked down at his hand. “Perhaps it’s always had one, but it kept it hidden?”

“You think the suit is really… alive, then? With a will of its own?”

“Yeah.” Peter nodded. “It somehow split off that crazy monster part that took over, but that jettisoned piece just kept growing and growing.”

“Wow,” the white-haired girl suddenly leaned forward, “now it kind of makes sense why Stark tried to goad you into losing control when you fought.”

“You’re right.” He hadn’t thought of that before. “He must have known something about the suit’s abilities from their experiments on the Triskelion.”

“And this thing called you ‘father’ and ‘lover’?” She grimaced. “That’s so fucked up.”

“Tell me about it.”

“But it didn’t try to hurt you, right? It just wanted to talk.”

“Yeah. It wanted to warn me about, um, the Korbinite? Then it told me to ‘master myself’ and that we’d go find a host. Or something.”

“A host?” Her eyes widened. “Like in Alien?”

“Please, let’s just keep Alien out of this,” he said, disgusted by the mere thought. “I’m more inclined to think it meant something like finding another person to put the suit on. I think.”

“That kind of makes sense.” The white-haired girl furrowed her brow. “What the hell is a Korbinite?”

“I have no idea,” he admitted. “I looked it up on the internet, but there’s nothing.”

“It could just be complete nonsense… I guess we can leave that for later. What was that last thing it said?” She scratched her head. “Something about mastering yourself?”

“I think it meant my suit. I told you how it started acting up like crazy when I was near that thing.” He almost winced at the mere recollection of the unpleasant sensation. “It must want me to get a grip on the suit to keep that from happening again.”

“Jesus.” She looked at him intently with her blue eyes. “So, what are you going to do?”

“I don’t really know, to be honest.” Peter shook his head. “It makes sense to confront it again – find out what its deal really is. Honestly, though, I have a gut feeling that I’ll just have to stop it. Maybe… I don’t know, beat it up and call in the Army?”

“Why? It didn’t seem particularly evil.”

“Are you forgetting the part about it always being hungry and feeding on human flesh?” He remembered the sweet stench of carrion that had emanated from its fanged mouth. “It’s a beast, Felicia, a creature out of a movie. This isn’t some human that became a mutant, it’s animal-like and was spawned from an alien organism.”

“Right, sorry,” she nodded. “I just can’t help but think that it’s a pretty intelligent being if it just wanted to give you a warning.”

“It has to be if it’s stayed hidden for this long.”

“So you’re gonna go after it? What about that whole ‘mastering yourself’ business, and the thing about the Korbinite?”

“I don’t know. But I’m sure that it’s already killed people, which means I have to stop it.” _‘I created it, after all.’_

Felicia seemed to instantly read the look on his eyes and knew what he was thinking. “Peter, it’s really not your fault that the alien being that lives inside you against your will created that thing,” she said with exaggerated emphasis.

“Yeah, yeah.” He couldn’t help but smile. “Still, if I don’t do this, who will? I doubt anyone would believe either an anonymous tip or Spider-Man himself if I tried to explain all this to the police.”

“Well, you might want to look into how you can face it without your suit freezing up.” She shifted herself closer to him. “So you’re going into the sewers?”

“Yeah, looks that way.” The notion of entering the city’s filthy underbelly filled him with dread and disgust. “I’ll have to look for plans of the sewage networks first... actually, the more I think about this, the more impossible it seems. I guess I could start with the alley where it showed up.”

“I could talk to some people,” she piped up. “A burglar I met through my dad used to brag about how he travelled around using the sewers – that’s probably why his nickname was Vermin.”

“Does that mean you’ll help me find that thing?”

“A chance to wade around in the sewers for days on end in search of a horrifying alien flesh-monster?” She smiled bemusedly and grabbed his hand. “How could I ever miss out on that?”

When the couple awoke the next morning, they went through their daily morning rituals while brainstorming how they would begin the search for the unknown creature. It was only after they’d sat down for breakfast, as they ate while listening to a news stream on Felicia’s laptop, that the new mission suddenly lost all its apparent urgency and importance in light of new developments.

Peter felt Felicia’s hand on his as the newscaster nervously read out the report, and its vicelike grip betrayed her shock almost as much as the clatter of her spoon as she let it drop into her plate.

“-exact dimensions are still, uh, unknown,” the man was saying with an overwhelmed expression. “NASA has, however, indeed confirmed the celestial object’s trajectory will bring it dangerously close to Earth. Whether this could mean a second collision event or not is still, as of this moment, unconfirmed…”


	11. Chapter 11

For something that had just been discovered near Mars’s orbit millions of kilometres away, the newest celestial body to grace Earth with a collision course triggered a very immediate reaction. While for most people it was a potential sign of renewed horror and despair, for the United States government it was nothing less than a godsend: with the masses and the media now entirely concerned with the very real possibility of an impact event on the same scale or even greater than that of Ueno, discussion and nationwide dissent about the state’s ill-treatment of mutants dwindled to almost nothing practically overnight. The President, in fact, transformed himself from one of the most despised individuals in the nation’s history to a potential saviour as he promised to make a concentrated push towards finding a way to ensure that the new meteorite did not impact on the planet; likewise, all the religious institutions that had fallen into disarray following the public appearance of mutants suddenly found themselves in high demand as people turned back to spirituality in search of a solution.

For Peter and Felicia, as was the case of every individual whose life had been irrevocably changed by Ueno’s impact, the news was more traumatic than usual. Both his lectures and her work day were called off in order to give them some time to assimilate the new information, as well as to protect them from the sporadic small-scale riots that had broken out across the city. The couple spent most of the day locked up in their apartment, calling up friends and family, reading up on the constant updates provided by NASA and the scientific community, and generally trying to convince each other that there was no way a disaster on the scale of Skyfucker could be repeated with so much forewarning. That night, when the situation out on the streets had calmed down considerably, they went to Aunt May’s house to assure her that everything would be alright.

It was almost midday on the second day before Peter noticed that he had put no further effort into planning his hunt for the creature that had ambushed him. Felicia tried to contact the man known as Vermin to ask for information on the sewage network, but could not reach him. Peter, in the meantime, spent two whole hours summoning his suit in the bedroom in an attempt to pinpoint how exactly he could ‘master’ its fear of the beast that it had spawned. In the afternoon, after going on a joint patrol of Queens during which they’d broken up over half a dozen violent altercations and an attempted looting, the couple returned to their apartment completely exhausted. After dinner, they were both lounging in the living room in contemplative silence when their eyes met and an abrupt, overwhelming passion prompted them to make love into the early morning hours.

The couple was enjoying a late brunch when Felicia first brought up the possibility that there could be some sort of connection between the second meteorite, of which NASA was still unable to provide more than a blurry image, and the alien organism in Ueno. They discussed the idea at length, positing that there may be another alien in the second celestial body and that this was what the creature in the alleyway had been speaking of. Due to the on-going worldwide plans to disrupt or even outright destroy the meteorite and the uncertain length of time until its supposed arrival, however, they agreed that there was not much merit in worrying about the connection at present.

They had barely finished their meal when the news broke that the meteorite had suddenly vanished in its entirety.

For two hours, the entire world practically stood still.

If the new celestial body’s sudden appearance had incited panic and desperation, its even more abrupt disappearance triggered outright madness. Accusations of misinformation serving to keep the populace in check or distract them from the mutant issue were made within the hour, only increasing in fervour and popularity with every minute that the worldwide governments and space agencies failed to come up with a satisfactory explanation. A few select religious heads across the world, on the other hand, were quick to declare that their prayers for salvation had literally been answered.

Peter and Felicia, like the vast majority of the world’s population, could do little more than try to keep up with the unceasing stream of new information in a state of utter bewilderment. They had barely collected themselves to attempt a proper discussion about what the hell was going on when the newsfeeds practically flew into a frenzy of new reports. Screams could be heard from the street outside the window, as well as the shrill sound of cars being brought to a screeching halt.

The couple didn’t even need to check what the news had to say now; the celestial body had reappeared so close to the Earth that it could be seen with the naked eye from their living room window.

“My God,” Felicia whispered, wide-eyed as she stared at the object far above them. “What the hell is it?”

Peter simply shook his head; that was most probably the most widespread question being uttered by the dozens of individuals that had gathered on the street to gaze up at the sky. Traffic had come to a complete standstill, but not one of the drivers who had stepped out of their cars to join the crowd seemed to even consider complaining. _‘Who would even think of going to work at a moment like this?’_

Holding the white-haired girl closer, Peter simply tried to breathe at a steady pace while trying to collect his disoriented thoughts. Many of the bystanders were taking pictures or filming the faraway object, but it levitated sufficiently high up – somewhere in the stratosphere – that one could only make out the more general details of its construction: a vaguely triangular shape several kilometres in diameter, some sort of brown-grey surface colour, and a number of smaller grooves along its edges that could be just about anything.

“A spaceship,” he finally whispered, his throat still dry. “That’s a fucking spaceship.”

“Yeah,” a burly man to his side said, overhearing him. “That’s a goddamn spaceship alright.”

It didn’t matter how many people repeated that statement, the fact was still taking its time to sink in. While Peter had already encountered no less than outright extraterrestrial life forms and, as a matter of fact, had one living within his body at that very moment, he had always seen that as a more parasitical or natural type of being that had hitched a ride on a celestial body of rock, not unlike a barnacle that had attached itself to a seafaring vessel. This on the other hand… this was an actual extraterrestrial possessing the intellect to travel across the stars of its own accord. _‘Something in that ship chose to come here… Jesus Christ, aliens!’_ He felt torn between a feeling of mind-numbing jubilation and terrifying uncertainty.

“I think I’ve seen too many alien invasion movies, but…” Felicia seemed to feel likewise as she looked at him. “What do you think?”

“I don’t know,” Peter said, glancing towards a group of people that were dancing wildly in celebration further down the street. “It’s only one ship, so…”

“Seriously, though.” She hugged him tightly as she continued to stare up. “What happens now? Do they send out a messenger or… or do we send one up? Is this where we get invited into the galactic federation?”

“Don’t overthink it,” he said, suddenly grinning. “Don’t… haha, just…” He suddenly began laughing as he gestured up at the vessel. “It’s just an alien spaceship, no big deal…”

Felicia turned her gaze towards him in confusion for a moment before snorting and joining in on the laughter.

It was all just so much to bear that he couldn’t help but laugh. The Triskelion, SHIELD’s war on him, a mutant revolution, the creature in the alleyway… almost everything that had occurred over the past fourteen or so months had been one bizarre situation after another, to the point where he felt like he could only laugh at this newest event. _‘Aliens visiting Earth. Guess I should’ve seen this coming.’_ His heart was pounding from all the excitement and euphoria as he gazed into Felicia’s eyes and smiled.

When the screaming started, it wasn’t so much from one specific source as it was a sudden chorus breaking out all around them. The couple looked about as the crowd began to break up and flee or simply cowered on the ground all around them, and their hearts sank in terror as they looked up at the source of all the commotion.

The unknown vessel was descending rapidly, its trajectory unmistakeably aiming it on a course for New York. It hadn’t tilted its body in any one specific direction as if to fly, but was simply dropping down through the atmosphere like a heavy object, tearing through clouds and beginning to glow as it sped up with terrifying speed.

 _‘This has to be some kind of joke.’_ Peter was so stunned by the abrupt whiplash in the street’s mood that he almost didn’t notice one of the cars behind them speeding up. Catching sight of a nearby short-haired woman in its direct path, he practically acted on instinct to bolt past fleeing citizens towards her. The woman was staring up at the sky in abject horror as he dove and tackled her out of the way, making sure to soften her fall with his body just as the sports car sped past the spot where she had just stood. Even as a part of him wanted to chase down the driver before he could hurt anyone else and the woman began to cry and thank him profusely, Peter could only focus on the falling craft which, by now, had grown to enormous dimensions. _‘Jesus. It’s as big as Central Park…’_

There could no longer be any doubt that it would fall squarely upon the city.

“Peter!” Felicia ran over to him as the short-haired woman helped him back onto his feet. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah,” he breathed, dusting himself off. “I-” His words were stuck in his throat as he noticed the panic in her azure eyes.

“Is it…” She ran right into him with a tight embrace. “Do you think it’s gonna…”

“It’ll stop.” It wasn’t hard to tell what she was trying to say. He hugged her tightly as they moved right up to the side of a building to avoid more rushing cars. “It has to… otherwise, this makes no goddamn sense…”

They both looked up together at the monumental ship as it drew close enough above the metropolis to cast a shadow over the entire neighbourhood and be discerned in detail. The vague vessel seemed to be entirely organic; the clefts, holes and ravines dug into its hull were all rounded out and intertwined in ways that would have made no sense for something built out of steel or any similar kind of material.

“Come on, you fucker,” he whispered, holding Felicia closer. “Stop. Stop moving, you bastard…”

“Peter,” the white-haired girl suddenly gasped as she looked into his eyes. “The Korbinite. It has to be.”

He froze, then looked back up at the vessel. It wouldn’t be long now – seconds at best – before it reached the city’s tallest buildings and, by extension, destroyed them utterly. A loud, rumbling sound like that of an enormous waterfall filled the entire street, and several nearby shop windows began to crack and shatter.

_‘Son of a bitch… are you here for the suit?’_

When the ship finally came to a complete halt just above central Manhattan, it was with such sudden intensity that a titanic gust of wind suddenly buffeted the entire street, almost knocking Peter and Felicia over. The couple never took their eyes off the vessel as an eerie silence settled over the area, fearful that it could continue its descent at a moment’s notice. Further down the road, a man was crying with his face hidden under his arms; whether it was out of fear or relief was almost impossible to tell.

“Holy shit,” Felicia whispered after a long time. “W-What the fuck…”

Peter nodded, his heart still racing from the ordeal. “Everything about that goddamn ship has been one long nightma-”

The pain seared through his head like a white-hot iron with such intensity and suddenness that Peter’s mouth simply hung open mid-sentence. It only lasted for a couple of agonizing seconds, but that was enough for Felicia to groan helplessly and dig her nails into his arms. He hugged her protectively, shocked and terrified by the mere memory of the pain, but had barely enjoyed more than a few seconds of recovery before a deep, unknown voice filled his ears as if he were wearing headphones.

“Species of this world,” it said, rumbling and sonorous. “I descend alone among you, as a hunter from afar, with no ill intent.”

 _‘Telepathy.’_ He clenched his jaw as the words grated against his skull. _‘Fucking telepathy again… the alien…’_

“I hunt a disease that tore through the sea of stars in search of prey,” the ghostly voice continued monotonously. “It is a plague unlike any other, a living being that falls upon planets and feeds on all that inhabit it; this creature, named a wyrm by my kind, has left a trail of dead worlds in its wake, scenes of pure agony and carnage. Let it not happen here. There are those of you who know of this beast – it would have fled to this planet… eleven… years ago.” The last part sounded like the voice was having trouble discerning the concept of time that it was using.

“Peter,” Felicia gasped, still clutching his arms. “This fucker is splitting my head in two...”

“I know,” he said through gritted teeth, embracing her tightly.

“Some amongst you must know of this wyrm,” the voice pressed on, “otherwise, it has already infested your planet to the very core. Bring it – or the host to which it has attached itself – to the hull of my ship, where you will find a circular portal. I have hunted the beast for decades and must destroy it once and for all. Pressure your leaders to bring it to me, for if it does not reveal itself in… two… hours I will purify this world in its entirety. It is for the safety of this galaxy, and for the honour of my species. I know it to be here, in this city. Make the correct decision.”

With that last word, it suddenly felt like a vast weight had been lifted from Peter’s body and he gasped for air. His head still throbbed, and just by looking around he could tell that everyone on the street, just as was most probably the case across the rest of the city or perhaps even beyond, had been subjected to the painful telepathic monologue.

“Holy fuck,” Felicia said, struggling to regain her breath. “That was the worst fucking first contact with an alien species ever…”

“Tell me about it.” He looked about at all the citizens standing around them in stunned silence. “Looks like everyone was forced to hear that speech.”

“That was definitely the Korbinite,” she whispered with sudden urgency. “Peter, that fucking alien came to Earth for your suit!”

“Wow, hey!” He looked around and, rubbing his temples, and nodded towards their apartment. “Let’s get back inside so we can talk about this without whispering.”

Countless police and ambulance sirens could be heard in the distance as they made their way back into their home, but as much as Peter wanted to help manage what was doubtlessly an utterly chaotic situation all around the city he knew that time was definitely not a luxury he could afford. _‘Two hours to get up into the alien spaceship and give up the suit… and who knows if that Korbinite or whatever even measures time the same way we do.’_ He had barely locked their apartment door behind them when Felicia turned to face him.

“So, what are you gonna do?”

“I…” He leaned against the door and shook his head. “Doesn’t sound like I’ve got much choice, does it?”

“Just like that? You’re willing to lose all your powers?”

“It’s not like I want to, but you heard the same speech I did…”

“Peter, look at the facts.” She took a step towards him. “An alien calling itself a hunter came all the way here and threatened the entire world with death if you didn’t show yourself so that it could ‘destroy’ the wyrm, or whatever.” She held his arm and stared at him intensely. “Does at all that sound like something a coolheaded individual would ever say?”

“We’re talking about an alien here!”

“I know that!” She snapped back. “Of course I know that, it’s just…” She took a deep breath. “It sounds like the kind of person, or alien or whatever, who won’t let you go if you show up with that suit.”

“Felicia…”

“Besides,” she added urgently, “you told me it couldn’t be removed. Stark said so, didn’t he? So, what, are you going off into space with this freak if it can’t get it out? Or are you gonna let him kill you in the process?”

“Please, Felicia, just calm-”

“No, Peter!” She flared up again and tightened her grip on his arm. “Now’s not the time for calm! I know what you’re thinking, and I’m telling you right now: I’m not into that whole ‘sacrifice yourself for the sake of the Earth’ cliché, not one goddamn bit. It sucks in movies and it sucks now, so don’t you even consider it!”

“What do you mean?” He was taken aback by her intensity and chose his words carefully. “I’m not going anywhere with the intention of dying, but if the alien said I had two hours to show up before it kills everything on the planet…”

“See, that’s what I’m talking about!” She jabbed a finger at his chest. “Your whole plan is built around giving in to that thing’s demands, so how could you possibly get out of there alive?”

“So what should I do?!” He felt a sudden swell of frustration as he raised his voice. “What choice do I have? This isn’t exactly a textbook situation!”

“You could start by looking at the whole damn plan differently!” Despite her anger there was a pleading tone in her voice. “How about scouting out the ship and approaching on your own terms? Hearing out what it has to say with an escape plan in mind?” She blinked to hide the tears in her eyes. “Goddamn fucking aliens…”

“Felicia…”

“Walking blindly to your potential death for the good of all mankind is all well and good,” she said softly, “but what’s the goddamn point if I’m left without you?”

Peter was silent for a long moment, before taking a step towards her and hugging her in a tight embrace.

“You’re right, Felicia,” he said. “Sorry, I wasn’t really thinking beyond my initial reaction.”

“Glad you noticed,” she said, suddenly sounding both relieved and tired. “So, you’re really ready to go through with this? If that suit’s removed, won’t you lose all your powers?”

“I guess that’s what would happen.” He had tried to push away all thoughts of the consequences that his actions might entail, but he recognized the need to confront them. “Maybe not the changes to my physiology, all that stuff… but I’m sure I won’t be swinging around the city on webs anymore or climbing up walls.”

“That… that would really suck.” She smiled empathetically. “It would really blow to lose the greatest superhero ever.”

“Hey now, you’re gonna make me think twice-”

They both jumped in surprise as someone suddenly knocked powerfully on the apartment door. They were silent as they shifted their gaze from each other to the entrance, and after a few seconds there was another set of knocks. _‘Who the hell could it be, right in the middle of all this craziness?’_

“Peter Parker,” a strong, commanding voice called out from the other side. “This is Commander Nick Fury of the United States Army. Please open this door immediately; we have an urgent matter to discuss.”

The declaration did nothing to reduce their confusion, only serving to heighten their suspicion. Felicia motioned quietly for him to back away from the door, and he had just begun to follow her when Fury sighed audibly.

“I’m alone, Mr. Parker. I really don’t want to yell out your secret alter ego name from this hallway, but we really need to talk about that. Right now.”

 _‘Ah, Christ. I knew Stark wouldn’t keep that information to himself.’_ Meeting the white-haired girl’s gaze again, Peter simply shrugged and, keeping his free hand balled into a fist, carefully made his way over to the entrance and unlocked it. Opening the door fully, he looked up at the imposing man standing before him in an officer’s dark-green military attire. The man was tall and, despite his grey hair, seemed to be built as strong as an ox as he glared coldly at him; the image was certainly complemented by the eyepatch obscuring one of his eyes.

“May I come in?”

Peter glanced around behind the soldier suspiciously and, after confirming that he was alone, stepped aside to let him into the apartment. He walked confidently, with his hands clasped behind his back, but there were small, barely-noticeable patches of sweat on his uniform indicating that he had recently gone through some sort of ordeal. _‘Not hard to guess what that was – all of New York suffered from it. He must have rushed here right after.’_

“Thank you, Spider-Man,” he said nonchalantly the moment the door was shut behind him. “It’s a pleasure to finally meet you.” He nodded towards Felicia. “Ma’am.”

“So,” Peter said coldly, leaning back against the door. “Stark told you?”

“No.” He turned towards him with his chin raised proudly. “I’ve known about you and the symbiote since you were still at Midtown High. I simply kept that information to myself.”

“Really? You want us to believe that?” Felicia frowned. “I remember you now: you were once the Director of SHIELD, before Tony Stark got the job.”

“That’s right,” he nodded, “but I still never acted on the information. Mr. Parker, you would have been sent to the Savage Land or worse long before your first year at ESU if I had shared that knowledge. Stark had to figure it out for himself, which is why he sent mercenaries to track you down.”

“Okay…” The sudden revelation had taken him by surprise. “In that case, I suppose thanks are in order…”

“No need. You justified my decision by using the power you’d attained to help the city. Not to mention your assistance at the Xavier Institute.”

 _‘That’s right… Beck mentioned that Fury was the informant that had helped them figure out how to get into the Savage Land.’_ “Alright,” he nodded. “So, why are you here now?”

“Isn’t it obvious?” He gestured towards the window. “I was on my way to a conference in New Jersey when we all got that message, and our helicopter damn near crashed. I convinced the pilot to bring me here, to your location.”

Felicia looked incredulous. “You came here by _helicopter_?”

Fury ignored her comment and took a step towards Peter. “I’ve had eyes on you this whole time, as you may have by now ascertained, and not once did I feel a need to confront you directly. Not once did I think it necessary to involve myself with your use of the symbiote – until now, that is.”

“The symbiote?” He frowned. “You mean the thing inside me?”

“Yes. The symbiotic alien organism that bonded with you aboard the Triskelion – or the ‘wyrm’, as the extraterrestrial called it.” The man began to pace around the living room, but never took his eye off him. “To be perfectly honest, I’m still trying to wrap my head around all this – alien visitation is nowhere near my pay grade. But I did hear that damn message and I did see that giant ship. Something in that vessel threatened the entire planet and now hovers right above the city where you live. That’s why I’m here.”

“To convince me to go up there?”

“Rather, to come up with a plan.” He stopped pacing and took a deep breath. “I spent years leading the Triskelion as they studied that thing, but purely in an administrative capacity. I never took the time to actually think about the symbiote as anything more than a resource that happened to fall from the sky. I don’t believe any of us ever imagined that something would be coming after it.”

“So the military has no countermeasures for this? No backup plan?”

“Of course not,” he snorted. “Or at least, nothing specific to an alien invasion scenario. The Air Force, Army and even the Navy have all been called up already, so I guess our ‘backup plan’ is to just shoot at it if it tries anything.”

“It claims to know that the… the symbiote is here, in New York,” Felicia said. “Are you sure there aren’t more, I don’t know, samples of the thing? Like, in Ueno?”

“There were,” Fury said, sounding slightly impressed, “but they all expired around a year ago. Just withered and dissipated. As far as the government is aware, there is no more trace of the symbiote.” He turned back towards Peter. “I, however, know better than that.”

 _‘Actually, I think you only know the half of it.’_ He scrutinized the older man for a second, weighing his options as he considered telling him about the beast in the alleyway. _‘If this guy headed up SHIELD, then lying comes to him as a second nature. On the other hand, I don’t have a lot of options here…’_

“I think there’s something you don’t know about the symbiote,” Peter finally said, steeling himself. “It produced an offspring.”

Fury’s confident expression was suddenly replaced with one of confusion. “What?”

“Around the time when Stark’s mercenaries attacked me,” he explained. “The suit took over me, and in order to regain control I had to… I don’t know, _expel_ the part that had taken over. That piece of the suit grew and is running around the city.”

“I wasn’t aware of this.” The older man’s face was a mask of disgust and worry now, but he seemed to believe Peter fully. “How do you know that it’s grown?”

“It snuck up on me a few days ago. It was huge and animal-like,” he recalled, “much larger than a person. It must have… it must have been feeding on people.”

“The recent serial killings.”

“Yeah.”

“Jesus.” Fury began pacing again. “I wasn’t aware of this at all. It attacked you?”

“No. It just showed up to talk – telepathically, like the alien. It wanted to warn me about it.”

“About the alien?”

“Yeah,” he nodded. “It called it a Korbinite, said that we could defeat it together and that I should find a host for it.”

The man shook his head. “I don’t believe this. Where is it now?”

“I don’t know,” Peter admitted. “It fled into the sewers. I’d been planning to hunt it down when, you know, all _this_ started happening.”

“Fuck,” Fury muttered. “I doubt we can round it up in the time we have left.”

“It seems to know where I am at all times – I think it can sense the suit. Maybe it’ll come to me.”

“We don’t have time for that right now.” He shook his head. “I don’t know how the alien – this Korbinite – will react to that. Keep that information to yourself.”

“I don’t work for you, Fury.”

“Oh, of course,” the scarred man said, his words dripping with sarcasm as he shot him a one-eyed glare. “I forgot, Spider-Man acts alone, even if it means deciding the fate of the whole planet. So, Mr. Parker, tell me how _you_ plan to take on this alien menace?”

Peter held his ground, though the stare did manage to unsettle him. “I’ll go up there and offer up the symbiote – but only so long as it can be removed without killing me.” From the corner of his eye, he could see Felicia smiling gratefully. “I won’t tell it about the other creature, though.”

“Ah. Stark must’ve let it slip that you that you can’t get rid of that thing and live.” Fury took a deep, snarling breath. “And if it says that that’s not a possibility?”

“Then I’ll fight it,” he answered immediately. “I’ll bring it down, whatever it takes.”

“Hah!” The commander shook his head in disappointment. “Weak, flawed, uncommitted – this is a terrible plan. How did you even aim to get up there?”

“I’d thought to swing up from one of the skyscrapers…”

“The military’s already cordoned off the ship with choppers and soldiers in every building. You’d be gunned down within seconds without my help.” He took a step towards him. “On a normal day, I’d have you knocked out and delivered to that ship, gift-wrapped and all. But this is far from a normal day, and I’ve never had this little time to deal with such an extreme situation before. So, here’s my proposal: I get you up to that spacecraft safely and you offer the symbiote to that thing. Everything after that, I’ll let you play by ear.”

“Gee, that’s mighty kind of you,” Peter said dubiously. “I can’t say I like my odds in that plan, though.”

“Because they’re so much worse than your odds of survival if you stay down here, right?”

“And what about the suit’s offspring?”

“Like I said, there’s no time for that.” Fury glanced out the window and sighed. “I’ll have my men keep an eye out, but we have no idea how this Korbinite thing will react to the news. It seems pretty serious about wiping out the symbiote for good.”

Peter looked at Felicia, who was quietly regarding him with a worried expression, and nodded.

“Alright. I’ll do it.”

“Good.” Fury didn’t at all sound pleased or surprised by his decision. “Come on, the helicopter is in Cunningham Park. We can still make good time.”

“Peter,” the white-haired girl said, moving to his side, “are you sure about this?”

“Hell no,” he said, smiling nervously. “But honestly, what choice do we have? Don’t worry, I’ll make sure to exhaust every option up there.”

“Let me just say it right now to avoid confusion,” Fury piped up, moving towards the door. “You, Ms. Hardy, are not coming along.”

“What?” Her blue eyes were aflame as she glared at the commander. “Why not?”

“Because it’ll be hard enough to give Mr. Parker alone clearance to get up there, not to mention that we don’t know how the alien will react to more than one visitor. Do you really want to just wait around in the helicopter?”

“It’s better than staying here and doing nothing!”

“Felicia,” Peter said quickly, “you should find your dad and make sure he gets out of town. I’d really appreciate it if you could then do the same for Aunt May.”

“But-”

“Please.” He held her hand gently. “I don’t know what’s going to happen up there, but it would really put my mind at ease to know that our loved ones are safe. It would be a huge help if you could give Mary Jane and Harry a call to tell them to get out, too.”

“That’s wise advice,” Fury said, nodding approvingly. “We can’t call for a general evacuation on such short notice, especially when there’s a small chance that the alien could just go away if all goes well. But it would be smart to get your friends and family out of the city.”

Felicia seemed unconvinced, but finally nodded and ignored the commander completely as she looked at Peter. “I’ll be at May’s house. Just remember what we agreed on before.”

“Don’t worry,” he said, smiling reassuringly. “I sure as fuck don’t plan to have ‘died on an alien spaceship’ engraved on my tombstone. I’ll be back before you know it.”

As Peter followed Fury out of the apartment and towards Cunningham Park, he was utterly stunned by the sheer number of people standing out on the streets and marvelling at the alien spacecraft above. While he caught glimpses of some more frightened individuals leaving their apartments with suitcases and rucksacks stuffed full of belongings, the vast majority were either observing the historic phenomenon or outright celebrating its arrival. Peter sincerely hoped that the Korbinite had merely been bluffing or exaggerating when it had spoken of violent retribution in case its demands were not met; with the spacecraft so close to as packed a metropolis as New York, the number of casualties would be absolutely staggering.

Once they had almost reached the park, Fury waited for Peter to duck into a nearby alleyway and summon up his suit. When he returned, he handed the man the backpack he had brought along for his clothes and they covered the rest of the way at a hurried pace. While some bystanders threw him a second look, either none of them cared that Spider-Man was making his way down their neighbourhood on foot or they simply didn’t believe that he was the real deal. Either way, they reached the Blackhawk helicopter parked smack-dab in the middle of a field in Cunningham Park without incident and boarded it alongside the two soldiers that had been keeping watch outside. Its engines were already running when they arrived, so it took mere seconds after the door was shut before the vehicle began its ascent.

Taking his seat opposite Fury, Peter was handed a headset with which to communicate as the helicopter quickly rose up skywards. The one-eyed man tested the set and looked at him with a wry smile.

“Not your first time on board one of these, is it?”

“It’s the third, actually,” he replied into the headset, “but every time’s been wildly different.”

Fury nodded and switched frequencies to get clearance for their approach to the alien spacecraft. As they moved, Peter couldn’t help but realize just how smooth and quiet the Blackbird’s traversal had been in comparison to a normal helicopter. _‘I seriously doubt I would have survived twelve hours aboard something like this.’_ The thought made him wish that the alien had set a more generous deadline than just two hours; he had thought to try to contact the Brotherhood of Mutants through Beck, if they were still anywhere in the United States, but the timetable made such an option simply unfeasible. _‘Maybe that was part of the Korbinite’s strategy – to make sure we didn’t have time to come up with a better plan.’_ Fury had already stressed that he would be going in alone, without any backup from the military, and while Peter had agreed that that was probably for the best it didn’t make him feel any less terrified. _‘Jesus, I can’t believe I thought I was winging it when I went to confront Stark – compared to this, that was a well thought-out master plan.’_

The former Director of SHIELD was talking so loudly into his headpiece that Peter could understand his words even through the rattling and tumult of the helicopter.

“That’s right, Spider-Man,” the one-eyed man repeated. “I’ll explain the circumstances later, but I assure you – we don’t have time for that, not for any of it! This mission is being formed by the minute, so either you give me authorization or I brave the blockade. The choice is yours.”

Swallowing, Peter glanced at one of the soldiers sitting by the commander and gave him an awkward thumbs-up. The man, surprised, glanced at his comrade before returning the gesture with a thin smile. _‘These guys are just as terrified as everyone else. For freaking once the government isn’t at fault for everything – hell, Washington DC must be in utter panic mode right now.’_ The bizarre realization that less than an hour ago he had not so much as suspected that an alien life form would be visiting the planet, not to even mention that he would have to confront it in person, almost made him doubt that any of this was actually real. _‘Uncle Ben, if you could see me right now – God, how many times have I said that in the last year?’_

The thought of his uncle made Peter once again think on the consequences of his actions – that, after just over a year, Spider-Man would cease to exist altogether as an alter ego that could help improve the lives of those living in New York City. It was only the sheer necessity of the situation that kept him from bemoaning the fact that he would, for the most part, once more become a regular human being devoid of any sort of powers. _‘Hell, just about any mutant would be more powerful than me, even if I get to keep my increased strength and stamina.’_ He smiled wryly at the thought, as if it was the result of some kind of poetic justice. _‘I guess that, in a way, these powers were always borrowed. They were never mine to begin with, so it only makes sense that I’d have to hand them back at some point.’_ That thought, however, did little to alleviate the pain of suddenly losing something that had become an essential part of his life: a calling and a passion both, which he had pursued despite uncountable foes, obstacles and pains.

 _‘Jesus… looks like, in the end, it literally took an alien threat from outer space to take out Spider-Man, huh? Criminals might as well go ahead and found a church for the Korbinite.’_ He sighed quietly. _‘Well… at least I’ll be able to focus more on my studies again? I might have to sit down and really start re-evaluating what I’ll do with my life…’_

“Alright,” Fury finally spoke up, changing the frequency back to the helicopter’s internal communications. “We have authorization to land on that thing.”

“Pretty good timing,” Peter remarked, looking out at the Empire State Building as they rose up past it. A number of other helicopters had begun following in their wake as they’d approached the skyscrapers, and he could only guess at the intentions of their escort.

“Well, it wasn’t easy convincing the brass that Spider-Man, of all people, was in possession of the symbiote. There’s obviously a lot hinging on this.”

“You’re telling me.”

“Look out the window,” Fury said, ignoring the comment. “We’re about to rise to the vessel’s level.”

Before his eyes, the view through the reinforced glass suddenly shifted from a vast cityscape to a mass of grey-brown substance covered in rivets and pits of every size and crisscrossed by countless artery-like tubes that snaked over each other while disappearing into one hole and reappearing from another. The height of the ship was so vast that the seconds ticked by without any indication that they were anywhere near its top.

“Holy crap,” he said, looking at the other occupants of the helicopter. While Fury was regarding the sight with mere interest, the two soldiers appeared as bewildered and taken aback as he felt. “It all looks organic.”

“Biomechanical, I think is the correct term,” the commander explained. “Some sort of fusion between a living organism and mechanical parts.”

“So this thing’s alive?”

“We don’t know yet,” he admitted, leaning back into his seat. “We haven’t actually landed anyone aboard this thing to study it, just in case it would piss off the occupant. Besides, it’s been on Earth for all of, what, an hour? Give us some credit.” He nodded back out the window. “Look, we’re finally clearing the top… Jesus, I can’t believe the fucking scale of this thing.”

A sudden stream of sunlight momentarily blinded Peter, and as soon as he recovered he could only marvel at what now lay below them – a vast landscape of biomechanical artifices and patterns that stretched out almost as wide as the eye could see. Even Fury simply stared wordlessly at the ravine-lined panorama of bizarre constructions that created a terribly uneven surface. As the helicopter began to fly towards the vessel’s interior, however, Peter realized that its very centre consisted of a perfectly smooth area several hundred metres in diameter which bore at its core a small circular ramp.

“Listen, Spider-Man,” Fury suddenly piped up, “I know that events today have moved far, _far_ faster than either of us are usually comfortable with, but I truly am grateful that you agreed to my plan so readily.”

“Why are you suddenly talking like I’m walking into my death?” A nervousness unlike any he had felt before in his life had gripped him the moment he realized how truly _alien_ the craft before him was, in more ways than one. “I plan to survive this.”

“Of course you do, and that’s not what I meant,” the one-eyed man quickly explained. He turned his gaze back out the window and suddenly shuddered. “It’s just… there’s something truly monumental about it all. Like every single event since Ueno crashed into the ocean has been leading up to this, and you’re personally bringing things to a close. What’s more, I’m aware that your actions could result in the loss of your powers and that, young man, is a truly noble sacrifice.”

Peter clenched his fists to hide his tremors and decided to quickly change the topic. “Do we know anything about the atmosphere in there?”

“I’d have mentioned it if we knew anything. We’re really going in blind here, son.”

“So I could just die the moment I step in there?”

“I sure as hell hope not. But just in case…” He reached into a satchel by his seat and drew out a lightweight oxygen mask, which he handed to him.

“That’s it?”

“Sorry I couldn’t get you a space suit on such short notice,” the man said, smiling genuinely for the first time. Outside, the helicopter was descending towards the smooth patch at the ship’s heart. “We’re almost there. Are you ready?”

“Not really, Mr. Fury.”

“Just Nick is fine.” He patted him firmly on the arm as the helicopter came to a rumbling stop. “You’ll be okay. We’ll be waiting for your return here. Give that damn thing back and let’s get this all over with.”

“Landing complete, sir,” the pilot said, betraying the nervousness in his voice.

“Keep those engines running. No-one but Spider-Man leaves the chopper, understood?” He looked at one of the soldiers and nodded. “Get that door open.”

The moment the infantryman complied, a sudden gust of strong, cool wind blew into the helicopter’s interior. Peter swallowed nervously and removed his headset before advancing towards the exit.

“Air’s a little thin,” Fury remarked as he passed by him. “Put on the mask as soon as you’re out, that should help out a bit.”

Peter nodded and, wordlessly, stepped out of the helicopter.


	12. Chapter 12

Peter’s immediate reaction to walking across the smooth surface of the ship, once he had overcome the awe of being the first man to set foot on an extraterrestrial vessel, was one of great discomfort. The material that made up the craft’s outer layer was almost smooth to the touch, but also surprisingly warm. He had assumed that the latter factor was due to the ship’s rapid descent through the atmosphere, but in light of its biomechanical construct he couldn’t put aside the thought that he was treading atop a living, breathing being. From close up it was clear to see that the grey-brown colouring changed in tones haphazardly across the surface and, in some places, was even partially translucent.

The sound of his nervous breathing through the oxygen mask’s filters only made the atmosphere all the eerier as Peter advanced towards the small circle that the Korbinite had mentioned in its message. Even though Fury’s helicopter had appeared to land relatively close to his destination, the walk still took him several minutes through the discomforting surface. As he readjusted his rucksack, which he had brought along so as not to return to the aircraft in just his boxers and t-shirt, Peter glanced back over his shoulder and confirmed his fears that the chopper was now at least a hundred metres behind him. _‘Did they really have to land so far away? This Korbinite better not want to leave in a hurry once we’re done with all this...’_

Finally reaching the circular outcropping, which was some twenty metres in circumference, Peter stepped up to its centre and waited. The view all around him was truly outlandish, even dreamlike – hill-like rises and winding biomechanical structures as far as the eye could see below a clear blue sky. _‘And to think that below all this lays New York City…’_ He thought about Felicia, May and his friends and silently hoped that they had all made their way out of the city, despite the white-haired girl’s promise that she would wait for him at his aunt’s house in Queens.

After around a minute of waiting around, Peter was about to kick a foot against the floor to announce his arrival when the circular outcropping suddenly rumbled to life with a light humming sound and began moving. Startled, he almost lost his footing as the round platform descended into the ship’s interior at a slow, steady pace. Glancing back, he caught one last glimpse of the helicopter before his field of vision was surrounded by a dark, flesh-like mass all around him. Peering closely, his heart was racing as he tried to get a better look at the bizarre surfaces that he was descending past. _‘Jesus Christ…’_

The walls of the circular elevator shaft weren’t merely flesh-like – they were entirely composed of some sort of organic component crisscrossed with veins as they twitched and pulsated gently. As his eyes adjusted to the relative darkness, Peter recognized that they were a greyish-red colour that brought to mind expired meat. The sickening components were only broken up by ligament-like protrusions that varied between mechanical and biological compositions. Taking a tremulous step forward, he noticed that the veins entwining the walls were actually cables of some sort. _‘Oh Goddamnit… what have I gotten myself into…’_

When the lift finally rumbled to a halt, Peter froze at the sight before him. It was a long, narrow corridor with walls tall enough to disappear into the darkness above; the end of the hallway similarly ended in an enormous archway that could not be penetrated by the slim source of light behind him. Peter’s hands clutched the straps of his rucksack tightly as he was suddenly assailed by a sheer, overwhelming silence.

The silence of a grave.

 _‘Come on… come on, Peter…’_ Swallowing nervously, he took a step towards the end of the platform and glanced down at the path before him. Unlike the walls of the elevator shaft, it seemed more bonelike than organic – sunken sections of the ground were partitioned by smooth, tube-like devices that gave it the vague appearance of a human spine. The monumental grey walls and doorway were similarly skeletal in design and appearance, further enhancing the impression of stepping into a tomb.

A vague sweet fragrance in the air, reminiscent of rotten fruit, wafted steadily from the dark portal ahead.

“H-Hello?” Peter stopped just short of the bonelike walkway. “Anyone here?” His heart was hammering against his chest as a wild, primal terror gripped his soul. Despite everything he had been through, all the horrors he had witnessed, something deep within his very being screamed that he _shouldn’t be there_.

Silence filled the corridor as his words were lost to the darkness.

Peter felt lightheaded as he resisted the urge to climb back out to the surface. “I have the symbiote… the wyrm. My name-”

“Step. Into. My. House.”

The voice – deep, unnatural, and chilling – was not spoken into his mind like the recent speech.

It boomed like a heartbeat from the darkness beyond the archway.

“Ah,” Peter gasped involuntarily, clenching his jaw as he felt a light wind brush against his suit in the disjointed words’ wake. The oxygen mask slightly distorted the sound of his rapid breathing as he nodded. “Okay… okay.”

With great effort, Peter took a careful step forward and made his way onto the skeletal walkway. He avoided the parts of the ‘spine’ that jutted out and kept to the smoother, sunken sections. With every step he took, so too did the dread and terror grow within him. It was a shameful kind of fear – like that of prey walking into a predator’s den. While he knew that part of that horror stemmed from the suit, which was now again tightening against his body, Peter was perfectly aware that he feared what lay beyond just as much. Whether it was the fact that he was treading deeper into a truly alien vessel to meet its occupant or merely the ghoulish appearance of the walls and floor around him, his self-preservation instincts were flaring up like never before in his life.

Finally reaching the oversized archway, Peter stopped his advance and tried to peer into the darkness beyond. Something glimmered wetly in the shadows, like a pool of water, but other than that there was no penetrating the dimness. Taking a shuddering breath, he was about to call out again when the booming voice, now far closer, pre-empted him.

“Come inside,” it said, its words now far less disjointed.

Nodding quietly, Peter stepped into the pitch blackness. The floor below felt similar to the walkway behind him, if somewhat softer and warmer. The smell of ripe fruit was now all around him even though he had the vague impression that the room was enormous. After a few metres he stopped advancing and simply waited in the dark, perfect silence.

A faraway sound echoed before him, barely-perceptible and akin to a rumbling growl.

When a light slowly began to fill the room, it stemmed from a source he would never have expected – a large circular pool filled to the brim with a strange dark liquid, the bottom of which was emitting a light-blue glow. As the room was steadily cast into a weak radiance, Peter could finally make out its full scale; it was indeed enormous, easily twenty metres in diameter and almost twice as tall in height. The walls curved inwards to give it a domelike appearance and they, like the walkway outside, were lined with skeletal supports that were spread out evenly across the room. After a few more seconds, the light expanded to reveal the contents of the side opposite the entrance: there lay another, identical archway that perhaps led further into the ship’s bowels and, placed just before it, stood an enormous object that, at a glance, could only be discerned as a membranous throne of some sort.

Peter looked about the empty chamber and then turned his attention towards the opposite doorway, hesitant to delve deeper into the vessel.

“Hello?” He called out again once he finally found his voice. “Is any- ah…”

The sudden ripples spreading across the circular pool caught his attention, and Peter could only stare in numb bewilderment as a dark shape suddenly appeared deep within its depths, rising quickly towards the surface. He almost tripped on a bonelike protrusion behind him as he staggered back several steps, and could do nothing but observe in dumbstruck silence as a large, wet shape broke the surface without making a sound and continued to rise up towards the ceiling in utter defiance of gravity. He could feel his back pressing against the soft organic wall as he tried to make sense of what he was witnessing. _‘That’s it… the alien…’_

_‘The Korbinite…’_

Within seconds, the extraterrestrial’s full body had risen above the liquid pool and hovered above it motionlessly. It was enormous – easily five metres tall – and seemed to be covered in some kind of organic grey-white armour that pressed against its muscles. Its head was obscured by a helmet or mask of some kind that angled forward like a bird’s beak and split upwards at its back like a pair of decorative wings. Other than two small slits at the helmet’s sides that appeared to serve as eyeholes, the suit completely enveloped its body, including the pair of broad arms that were crossed in an X against its chest.

Peter could hardly catch his breath as he watched the massive being move effortlessly from its spot above the dark pool to the area in front of the throne, so strongly was the suit tightening against his chest. It was clear to see that his astonished fear was nothing compared to the primal terror that the symbiote appeared to be feeling as the individual claiming to hunt it finally made its presence known.

When the Korbinite’s feet gently touched the floor, it was as if the invisible force that had been transporting it suddenly disappeared all at once. The extraterrestrial’s enormous body, which had been still as a rock, trembled lightly as its arms were lowered from its chest and it slowly gazed up towards the chamber’s entrance. The slits in its helmet, which had previously been dark and empty, now shone with the gleam of dark eyes within.

For a second, the only sound in the vast room was the dripping of the pool’s liquid upon the dark floor and the alien’s steady, heavy breathing.

“The wyrm,” the Korbinite boomed through its helmet, “you have brought it.”

“Y-Yes,” Peter stammered, still in shock over the giant’s unexpected appearance. “I… I...”

“You wear it upon your skin,” it rumbled, scrutinizing him. “You are its host.”

“Yeah,” he nodded, only then fully realizing that he was actually having a direct conversation with an extraterrestrial. _‘It… it can speak a lot better now...’_ “It was an accident…”

“There are no accidents where the wyrm is concerned.” With a rumbling step, the creature stepped towards the throne and leaned a hand on it, though it made no move to take a seat. “You have come within the allotted time. That is commendable. As is custom, I will hear all you have to say and answer any questions that you pose. After that, I will ask my question, and you will answer. It may be a slow process – my ship translates this world’s languages for me and vice versa.”

“O-Okay…” An easy, basic question immediately sprung to mind amidst all the confusion and nervousness. “Who are you?”

“My name cannot be uttered in your tongue,” it replied gravely. “I am a hunter, from a faraway world named Korbin.”

 _‘Holy shit… the creature in the alleyway was telling the truth.’_ “And… and you’re after the symbiote?”

The alien paused for a short moment before formulating a reply.

“The wyrm, yes. I hunt it for both my people, and for the good of the entire galaxy.”

“What do you mean by that?” Although he was still processing the terrifying fact that he was having such a momentous conversation, Peter’s curiosity got the better of him.

“The wyrm and my people originated from the same world. We survived in sleeper ships that silently roam the sea of stars, but we never forgot nor forgave the cause of our demise. Some, like I, have spent our entire lives hunting down the wyrms – they fear us, and flee across the cosmos.”

“You’re from the same planet? I-Is that why you can both use telepathy?”

The Korbinite paused once more, and then took a rumbling step towards the dark pool. “Most intuitive. Yes, the essence of our planet granted us this power. The wyrms, too, gained this ability; they used parts of our destroyed home to seek out new worlds and fresh prey.”

 _‘Ueno. Jesus Christ.’_ “That’s why the asteroid that crashed here... it caused mutations...”

“Mutations.” The extraterrestrial seemed to savour the word for a moment. “Yes… that is correct. The essence of this asteroid, as you call it, should have spread our skill of the inner song – telepathy, as you call it. The genetics of your species, however, may not have been quite compatible. Some could have acquired the skill, while most others developed aberrations.”

“That’s… a lot to take in.” He wondered how Erik Lehnsherr and Charles Xavier would react to such a revelation. “So, did you use telepathy to find the… the wyrm?”

“In a sense. My ship amplifies my powers – it is linked directly to my being, and is thus an extension of my will. We share a symbiotic relationship, just as you do with the wyrm, and this allowed us to track our prey through the dark of space to this general location.”

“Oh.” Peter glanced down at the odd material he stood upon and grimaced. _‘So this whole thing really is alive. I think I’m gonna be sick…’_

“Do you have any further questions?”

“Y-Yes!” He spoke up quickly, not wanting to miss his chance to pose his most pressing query. “I need to ask beforehand: can the wyrm be removed without killing me?”

“Of course,” the Korbinite replied matter-of-factly. “That, however, depends entirely on the wyrm’s will.”

“Its will?” Peter felt a rising sense of elation despite his confusion. _‘God… I’d started to fear the worst.’_

“The wyrm itself must decide to leave you unharmed.” The alien took another thudding step around the edge of the pool, seemingly wanting to scrutinize him from a closer distance. “Now, I believe it is time for my question.”

“Oh, okay...”

“Have you come here of your own free will?”

“Here? You mean, to this this ship?”

“Answer the question.”

There was something in the alien’s blunt, demanding tone that suddenly made Peter fear that his answer carried significant importance for the Korbinite. Its enormous mask betrayed no emotions whatsoever, but its body language made it clear that it was readying itself for some sort of reaction.

“Uh… yes. I mean, I had help, but… I come here of my own free will. So long as the symbiote can be safely removed…” He trailed off as the Korbinite suddenly turned to face the pool of liquid by its side.

“It is as I feared then,” it stated ponderously. After a moment, it reached out a hand above the pool and, despite its distance from the liquid, seemed to somehow manipulate the water-like surface.

“What is?” Peter almost jumped from fright as the vessel around them suddenly rumbled and moaned with a sound like a soft growl.

“You have come here of your own free accord – this means the wyrm within you has accepted the possibility of death by my hand in exchange for your life.” The Korbinite continued to create waves and ripples in the water with smooth gestures from its hand. “This is an aberration, and can only mean that it has excised its fouler nature in an act of evolution. It has reproduced.”

“That’s…” Peter’s throat went dry as he tried to think of a way to explain himself, but the alien seemed uninterested in what he had to say.

“I caught fleeting images of the excised beast when I neared this world – asking my question and answering yours was merely an observation of formalities.” The growling of the ship around them grew in intensity, and a sound almost akin to an irregular heartbeat could be heard all around them. “This world was marked for purification the moment I entered its atmosphere.”

“Purification?” Peter’s heart was racing as he took a nervous step away from the pool. “What do you mean with-”

“All life must be cleansed down to a molecular level. The process will not take long, but this ship must vent all excess energy first,” it replied mechanically. The pulsating sound all around them was growing faster and faster by the second.

“Wait... wait!” There was a pathetic sense of helplessness deep in Peter’s gut as he fathomed the immensity of what the alien was saying. “You don’t have to do that! That creature is here, in this city... I can bring it to you! Just give me time!”

“It doesn’t matter,” the Korbinite said, finally dropping its hand to its side. The water before it had now descended into a chaotic whirlpool spinning at a constant rate. “I cannot take any risks with the wyrm. This is how it must be.”

“I’m telling you that I… I can bring...”

“This world was fated for purification the moment the parasite reproduced,” the extraterrestrial said, turning back towards him. “That fact cannot be changed, no matter what. The process will commence in… two… hours.”

“No, that’s…” He shook his head. “That makes no goddamn sense!”

“What are a few billion lives for the good of the entire galaxy?” The giant took several rumbling steps around the pool, heading straight for him. “I will personally end your suffering now.”

The statement was so decisive and abrupt that Peter barely had time to dodge away as the Korbinite reached out with a massive hand to grab him. Somehow, above all the terror and helplessness, he instinctively raised a hand and fired a web at its mask. He could only stare in sheer horror as the black webbing dissolved like liquid upon impacting its armour.

“The wyrm’s essence,” it stated, pausing for a moment. The irregular heartbeat all around them had now reached a fever pitch as the ship rattled and shook violently. “I swear to avenge you, even if the beast must be torn from your flesh.”

 _‘Oh fuck, oh fuck-’_ Peter had just turned towards the exit when the Korbinite leapt forward with sudden, blinding speed. There was a painful pressure on his back as the alien tightened its crushing grip on his rucksack, having missed his head by mere inches. _‘God, please God-’_ In desperation, Peter hunched his shoulders and slipped out of the backpack’s straps, leaving it behind as he stumbled away from the kneeling giant. Struggling to breathe regularly, he dashed down the skeletal corridor with every fibre of his being.

Peter didn’t look back as he heard the booming steps of the Korbinite quickly giving chase.

“Fuck,” he gasped, focussing solely on the elevator shaft before him and the light streaming in from above. _‘Was this my fault? Did I… Jesus, it’s trying to kill me-’_ The split-second shift from a mere conversation to a desperate flight for his survival had jarred Peter intensely, but the sheer fear of death as it closed in from behind, step by thundering step, granted him the strength to keep sprinting.

He was almost at the circular elevator when he heard a soft snarl mere inches behind him-

Peter screamed and fired a web blindly upwards, leaping up even as he did. The black substance caught on the upper edge of the shaft and pulled him up a second before the Korbinite rammed into the organic wall just below his feet. Glancing down as he rose towards the sunlight, Peter stared in horror as the giant alien glared up at him from the bottom of the shaft and, upon some wordless command, began rising atop the circular platform. _‘It’s still coming after me-’_

The darkness within the slits on its helmet finally gave way to reveal dark golden orbs that stared squarely at him.

They shone with pure hatred.

Peter tugged desperately at his web and flung himself out onto the vessel’s surface. Sheer relief surged within his chest as he confirmed that Fury’s helicopter was still where it had landed before, some hundred metres away. Without taking even a second to breathe, he immediately started on a desperate sprint towards it. _‘Webs were ineffective… it must’ve been that armour, or-’_ He was jostled out of his thoughts by the sudden loud, animalistic scream that rose behind him.

It only took a single glance over his shoulder to confirm that he would never make it to the aircraft before the giant dashing singlemindely towards him caught up to its prey. The Korbinite’s avian helmet almost gleamed in the sunlight as it tore with ease through the biomechanical landscape that now rumbled as if in the throes of an earthquake.

Nick Fury, it seemed, had also come to the same conclusion as Peter: the helicopter, after rising slightly off the ground, dipped its nose and rapidly made its way towards him. Trying his best to calm the terror in his gut, Peter put every last fibre of his strength into increasing his speed as the rumbling steps behind him now resounded closer and closer.

After a few seconds, the helicopter ceased its approach and turned to present its left side, the door of which was open, to face the fleeing superhero. Fury motioned wordlessly for him to hurry up as one of the soldiers took careful aim with his assault rifle and, after a second of hesitation, opened fire on the approaching giant. There was no need to even check the results of the covering fire – the continued thundering footsteps and the rifleman’s look of shocked dismay told the whole story.

“Come on, kid!” Fury’s voice was finally within earshot and boomed above the thundering spacecraft and the helicopter’s rotors as he continued to wave urgently. “Hurry!”

Swallowing nervously, Peter put whatever strength remained in his legs into a powerful leap, but he could tell even as he jumped that he wouldn’t make it due to the soft, shaking ground throwing off his calculations. Reaching out as far as he could with his right arm he fired off a web directly into the interior of the helicopter, where it connected with an empty passenger seat. Sighing in shuddering relief, Peter glanced down below at the Korbinite as it finally stopped giving chase just above the spot where he had stood a second before.

It simply stared up in immobile silence as the surface of the titanic ship around it twitched and shifted like a nervous beast.

“Guh,” Peter gasped, falling to his knees on the passenger hold’s floor as he pulled off his oxygen mask. “Fury- Fury, it’s going to-”

“I know, son,” the man said, placing a hand on his back.

“No, I…” His chest hurt as he struggled to regulate his breathing. “I fucked up, Fury, I- I messed up-”

“No you didn’t.” He leaned down to pick up the oxygen mask and showed him a square protrusion built into its side. “We were listening in the whole time. It’s not your fault, Spider-Man.”

“Then you know…” He swallowed painfully, getting up on a seat opposite him. “The alien said it’s going to kill everyone...”

“The military’s already been informed,” the commander answered gravely, before nodding out the open doorway. “What’s more – the ship released a violent wave of energy while you were still in there.”

“What?” Peter turned to look out just as the helicopter cleared the side of the spacecraft and began its descent back towards the city below. “Oh God…”

Entire patches of the metropolis below were scorched and afire as if they had been torn into by an intense inferno that had immediately thereafter disappeared. Whole neighbourhoods were in ruins as far as the eye could see, the pattern of the damage made it seem like the Korbinite’s spacecraft had simply fired off these massive bursts haphazardly.

“What…” Peter’s mouth felt dry as the helicopter descended towards the destruction. “What happened?”

“They described it as a wave of energy, like a lightning storm on a massive scale,” Fury stated grimly. “Ever since then, the ship’s been firing off dozens of electric bolts every minute. This must’ve been what the alien meant by venting excess energy…”

Peter was about to reply when the helicopter’s angle finally allowed him a view that froze him to his very core.

Queens had been hit hard and, right along the trajectory of the damage, Flushing lay in smoking ruins. The damage seemed absolute – entire streets had been flattened into rubble even as their roads lay broken and jutting out towards the sky.

 _‘Felicia… Aunt May…’_ Peter opened his mouth to speak, but it took some time before he could find the right words. “That’s… my home is there…”

“I’m sorry, kid,” the man said sympathetically.

 _‘They’re alright... they have to be. There’s been too much madness already.’_ “I need to get down there.”

“It isn’t safe,” Fury replied gently. “The military’s about to open fire on that ship…”

“Please,” Peter insisted, unable to take his eyes off the destruction. “I need to go there… no matter what, I just…”

The grey-haired man looked at him in silence for a long moment before finally nodding and speaking into his headset. “Pilot, set course for Flushing, Queens. Look out for air traffic from rescue and news services.”

The commander’s words sounded distant to Peter as he simply tried to process the cacophony of fear, hopelessness and disaster that had assailed him from the moment he had set foot on the alien ship. He felt utterly exhausted by the ordeal, both in body and spirit. _‘Please, Felicia… Aunt May. Just hold on, just… please, just be alright.’_

The helicopter descended into the distant chorus of screams and ambulances beneath the vast shadow of the Korbinite’s ship.


	13. Chapter 13

The entire suburban area in which Aunt May lived was completely in ruins. So many houses had been reduced to burnt-out foundations surrounded by the wreckages of cars and disgorged streets that Peter was having a hard time guiding the helicopter pilot towards the directions he had come to know by heart. Paramedic teams were running around below them, unable to bring their ambulances right up to the disaster sites due to the ruined roads; the only way to quickly bring the countless wounded to safety was by air, and it was clear that the half dozen helicopters descending on Flushing alone were just a portion of the city’s desperate efforts to confront the catastrophe. Behind them, bolts of immeasurably-powerful lightning were raining down on Manhattan at an irregular frequency from the ship to devastating effect.

 _‘All this in the blink of an eye…’_ Peter simply tried to focus on finding his aunt’s house, so overwhelming was the amount of death and pain surrounding him which he was powerless to alleviate.

“This is it,” the pilot finally said, double-checking his cockpit’s GPS. “That’s the cul-de-sac right there.”

Fury leaned over the man’s shoulder to get a better look and nodded. “Bring the chopper down in that roundabout – it looks relatively intact.” He then leaned back into his seat to continue a heated discussion with some other military officials. It had quickly become clear that his willingness to bring the helicopter to Flushing not been a pure act of altruism – the man simply had nothing to do as the Air Force and the Navy geared up for their strike against the Korbinite ship, and the neighbourhood lay outside the danger zone. Nonetheless, Peter felt immensely grateful for his help – he hoped that the shock of what he was witnessing would wear off soon so that he could thank him properly.

With a heavy shudder the helicopter touched down on the damaged pavement at the end of the street. One of the soldiers opened the door and gestured for Peter to step outside. As he passed Fury, who was still talking into his headset, the one-eyed man gave him a brief, acknowledging nod. Returning the gesture, he quickly hopped off the vehicle and immediately began looking about for his aunt’s house.

The scene of destruction was far worse from close up than it had been from the air. Amidst all the rubble and smoke, Peter could see dozens of charred remains, and people suffering from injuries caused by fire or falling debris sat on the pavement in stunned silence as overworked paramedics and family members tended to their wounds. Above all else, Peter wished that he could help these people; every instinct that he had developed from his time as Spider-Man screamed for him to stop by every group of doctors to ask how he could help, and it took an immense effort on his part to suppress the urge and simply focus on the task at hand to look for his aunt’s house.

Peter was almost at his destination when a dishevelled-looking middle-aged man covered in soot ran over to him, calling out.

“Hey. Hey!” The man grabbed Peter’s shoulder and shook it as he stared at him with wide, bewildered eyes. “You- You’re the real deal, right? Spider-Man?”

“I-”

“Listen… listen, you have to help my family!” He pointed with his free hand towards a woman sitting by the pavement with her arms wrapped protectively around two small children. “It’s not safe here, you have to help me get them out! Please-”

“I…” Peter shook off the man’s hand and took a step back. “I’m sorry, I can’t. Talk to one of the paramedics…”

“What? No, no!” There was mad desperation in the man’s eyes as he stepped towards him. “There’s no time, you… you didn’t see what happened here…”

“I’m sorry.” It hurt to say those words, but there was little more he could do but keep repeating them. “I can’t right now… I’m sorry.” He turned and kept walking briskly down the road, ignoring the man’s continued pleas for help. _‘Jesus. Some superhero you’ve become, Peter Parker.’_

He had almost reached the end of the cul-de-sac when, to his surprise, he realized that he’d passed his aunt’s house without even realizing it. Turning to look to his side with a growing sense of foreboding, he realized that his mistake hadn’t been due to confusion or disorientation amidst all the chaos; he had simply not been able to tell the charred beams and piles of rubble apart from those of the two houses preceding it.

“Oh no.” He ran over to the lawn which, despite bearing scorch marks across its breadth, still bore the garden gnome that Felicia had found so comical and tried to peer inside. “No, no, no…” He wished dearly that there were some way he could call his aunt, but with neither of them carrying a cell phone at the time all he could do was hope that she hadn’t been in the house at the moment of its destruction. It was only as he walked up to the collapsed beams of its front entrance that the reality of what he might see finally sunk in, and he felt a nauseating breathlessness sweep through his chest while threatening to make him vomit from the sheer dread anticipation. “Please-”

When he saw the bloodied hand sticking out of the rubble, it was like he had suddenly been submerged in freezing water, numbing his body and driving the air out of his lungs.

“Aunt May… May!” Peter dashed over to the entrance and looked for a way to lift the large fallen, burnt-out beam at the centre of all the collapsed tiles and plaster covering the figure. Finding a tractable-looking section, he grabbed tightly onto the still-warm wood and raised it up, clenching his jaw as he put all his strength into the effort. All the rubble collapsed upon its other end weighed the beam down enormously, but after several seconds he finally managed to lift it enough to reveal the person beneath.

“May-”

It was obvious at a glance; if not from her utterly motionless, dust-covered face which lacked any reaction whatsoever to his inspection for a pulse, then from the drying pool of blood spreading out from the lower half of her body which still lay concealed under rubble. Her rigid grip on the house keys indicated that she had been in the process of leaving the building when it had been brought down on top of her, but the part of her body that had been freed of the collapsed beam was mercifully intact. Her blue eyes, glazed as they looked out towards the burnt-out lawn, were partially closed and left her looking distant and tired in her final moments, rather than terrified and pained.

“No…” Peter subconsciously removed his mask as he fell to his knees by her side and held her shoulder, which was clothed in a red sweater she had knitted herself. His eyes stung from all the dust in the air that had quickly gotten all over his suit as he’d moved the beam away, and his tears flowed anew every time he tried to blink it away. His body felt weak and tired, but above all it was simply numb; the heat from nearby fires, the smell of charred wood and flesh, the sounds of people calling out and screaming – it all seemed distant, as if occurring on the other side of a thick glass wall.

The last member of Peter’s family had perished and there was nothing that he could have done for her. The closest thing he had had to a mother since Ueno’s fall into the Atlantic Ocean had lost her life just as instantly as Ben Parker had, and the painful feeling of emptiness within his chest was now just as bad as it had been then. _‘Goddammit. Goddammit, goddammit, goddammit… I never even told her anything. Never told her how much she meant to me, how much I owed her, not even that I was running around the city as Spider-Man… I never told her, and now it’s too late. Goddammit.’_ He wanted to touch her cheek, but held himself back at the thought of the morbid action and simply kept staring down at her in silence through teary eyes. _‘I’m sorry, Aunt May. Sorry I couldn’t stop this, sorry I couldn’t save Uncle Ben, or you, or so many others… I’m sorry I wasn’t here, that you were alone…’_ That last thought suddenly snapped him out of his grief as he looked about the area with sudden urgency.

“Felicia?” His throat felt hoarse from the smoke and his crying, but he still called out as loudly as possible while slowly getting back up on his feet. “Felicia!” _‘Come on, come on, this won’t happen… it won’t, it won’t-’_

The sound of coughing from deeper within the house’s ruins immediately caught his attention and, wiping away his tears, he quickly made his way over all the smouldering rubble that had once been the house’s living room. It was only once he’d cleared the thin pillars of smoke obscuring his view that he noticed the relatively-intact state of the back of the house. The hacking coughs grew nearer as he approached the stairwell leading up into the collapsed upper storey and there, huddled against the far wall, he finally saw her; bleeding from a cut to her arm and covered in dust from head to toe, Felicia seemed as relieved to see him as he felt upon seeing her alive and well.

“Felicia!” Peter quickly ran over to her side and looked her over for injuries. Besides a few small cuts that had torn through her Nightwish t-shirt and jeans and the larger one on her right arm, there was also a patch of blood on the side of her head that was seeping into her dust-coated white hair. “Are you okay? Can you hear me?”

“Yeah,” she managed, coughing and spitting as she raised herself unsteadily onto her knees. “Head hurts… I think something hit me, maybe knocked me out…” She started coughing again. “What happened? Were you on the ship?”

“Come on,” he urged, looking up at the unstable-looking wall that had somehow remained standing. His prior grief and pain was quickly contained by an overwhelming urge to get her to safety. “We need to get back to the street quickly.”

“H-Hold up,” she said, grabbing one of his wrists as he helped her onto her feet. “May, is she…?”

The question hurt Peter almost as much as the answer did, but he didn’t want to keep her in suspense. “No… no, Aunt May, she…”

Felicia blinked and dropped her head. “No… oh, no…” She doubled over and tried to catch her breath while leaning on him. “Peter, I… fuck, I’m sorry. I couldn’t get her out in time…”

“It’s not your fault. Hey,” he raised her chin gently and looked into her tear-streaked blue eyes. “Come on, there’s nothing you could have done. Let’s just get out of here.”

The couple carefully made their way through the smoking ruins of the kitchen and out the remains of the nearest exit, mercifully steering clear of the main entrance and what lay there. As they carefully treaded past the collapsed garage, Peter decided to break the solemn silence so as to keep them both distracted.

“What happened, Felicia? Did you manage to get your dad out in time?”

“I… I think so.” She screwed her eyes shut for a moment and shook her head. “I don’t know, I pretty much yelled at him until he got into a cab bound for New Jersey. That seemed good enough for me.” She swallowed painfully. “Ugh... then I called Harry and Mary Jane. Told them to leave the city, too. I don’t know if they listened, but they said they would. That’s when I came here.” She glanced back over her shoulder at the ruined house. “God… what hit us? Was it the alien?”

“Yeah,” he admitted as they finally made it back out onto the cul-de-sac. “That whole thing was a fucking nightmare… here, sit down here.” He carefully laid her down on the grass of a more intact lawn and sat down next to her. A sudden sense of exhaustion came over him as he felt the cool, soft earth beneath his hands.

“Did you talk with the Korbinite?”

“Yeah. But it was huge, twice as big as a man, and pissed off.” He glanced up as a squadron of five jet fighters overflew them. “It said this planet was doomed the minute the suit produced an offspring. Then it tried to kill me with its bare hands…”

“Jesus!”

“Yeah.” He nodded slowly. “It didn’t go well. I guess that’s when it fired on the city.”

“It wants to wipe out the whole planet?”

Peter nodded, then turned towards her. “When I saw what had happened to Queens, I- I don’t know. It was like I’d been punched in the gut. My cell phone was in my backpack and I lost that…”

Felicia looked over at the wrecked house. “I came over here as soon as I could. May was in the living room, watching the news about the alien ship. It took a while to convince her to leave – she kept asking about you.”

He nodded, biting his lip.

“I told her to go on ahead while I looked for her purse – that was when all hell broke loose. Something hit me on the head, maybe a picture frame or a lamp, I don’t know…” She shuddered. “I came to when I heard you calling out. So, she didn’t…”

“I found her at the front door,” he said bluntly, before taking a deep breath and blinking away the fresh tears. “God, she was almost out…”

“Fuck,” she whispered, shaking her head. “I should’ve stayed near her. My powers… they must be what kept me safe, made me go to the back of the house…”

“And I’ll be thankful to them for the rest of my life,” he said firmly, looking back at her. “Felicia, there’s nothing more you could have done for May. I saw the damage from the sky… there must be thousands, hundreds of thousands of dead. I… I couldn’t bear to lose you.”

“Peter…” She wiped a tear from her eye. “Well, there’s nothing you could have done either.”

“What do you mean?”

“Who do you think you’re talking to? I can read you as easily as a book,” she said. “You think you fucked up on that ship and the city is destroyed because of you? Isn’t that a bit self-centred?”

“What are you saying?” The harshness in her tone took him by surprise. “Felicia, that fucking alien turned on his death machine the moment I said I was there of my own free will. If… if I had lied or…”

“There’s no point torturing yourself over that!” Her tone was suddenly fierce as she looked at him. A small amount of blood descended from the wound on her head and left a thin trail on her temple and cheek. “You gave your answer and it reacted in its own way. You’re not omniscient, nor are you responsible for the actions of psychotic fucking aliens!”

“There must have been something I could have said to convince it-”

“I doubt it,” she interrupted him. “The alien travelling across the galaxy for the sole purpose of hunting down that worm or whatever probably isn’t as flexible as you’re giving it credit for.”

“It knew about the offspring,” he snapped, suddenly defensive. “That’s what set it off, that the suit had reproduced. That was my fault, I lost control of the suit!”

“You mean the monster that the suit created while you were unconscious and that you only just encountered a few days ago? That monster?” She grimaced suddenly and coughed. “Come on, man, what are we doing?”

“What?”

“Do you really want to sit here and have a pity party when we still have to stop this fucker?”

Peter opened his mouth to reply, but knew that there was nothing he could say to that. _‘She’s right. Dammit, she’s always right. What the hell am I doing?’_ Taking a deep breath, he calmed himself and nodded quietly, looking back into her eyes as she started rubbing his back.

“Chin up, Peter,” she said gently. “We’re in on this together – all the way to the very end. We’ll see this through.”

Peter smiled and carefully wiped the blood from her cheek. He nodded towards the bloody injury on her arm. “We should get that looked at.”

“I’m fine.” She shook her head and held his hand in hers. “I just wish I hadn’t left my outfit at the flat. I guess I’ll just have to kick alien ass in these clothes.”

“I don’t know if anyone will be kicking that alien’s ass,” he confessed. “It’s covered in armour that can just shrug off my webs, and gunfire doesn’t seem to have any sort of effect. I don’t know how we’ll take it down.”

Felicia was about to say something when a figure suddenly emerged from the smoke further down the street. Peter quickly summoned his mask, though in the back of his head he couldn’t help but wonder if there was really any point in doing so under the present circumstances. The tall figure revealed itself as Nick Fury, who approached with the two soldiers trailing a short distance back. The man looked down at the couple sitting on the grass, then at the destroyed house.

“My condolences, Spider-Man.”

“Thanks.” Peter grunted as he got up from the lawn, holding out a hand to help Felicia. “Let’s make sure we make that bastard pay for all this.”

“You might get to see that in just a moment,” he said, smiling thinly. The commander nodded at the spacecraft in the skies above Manhattan. “The military should begin its strike any second now.”

“What about all the people in the city?”

“The armed forces are sort of in a ‘oh shit, an alien just threatened to end the world’ sort of mood today. They’re not overly concerned by collateral damage.”

“Do you think we’ll actually be able to take it down?” Felicia looked up at the triangular vessel doubtfully. “And what if it fires again?”

“If it shoots again, then we’re fucked,” Fury stated bluntly, shrugging his shoulders. “It shouldn’t come to that anytime soon, though, at least if the alien was telling the truth before. And I somehow doubt we’ll be able to down an otherworldly mothership with missiles and naval cannons.”

The white haired girl frowned. “So what’s the point?”

“The point, Ms. Hardy,” the man said, walking towards them, “is to exhaust all our options before we resort to more extreme measures.”

“What do you mean?” Peter suddenly felt an odd sensation across his skin. “What measures?”

“I’ve been on the phone with the top brass since – look, it’s starting.”

Several squadrons of jet fighters like the one that had overflown the neighbourhood before were approaching the Korbinite ship from several directions, dozens of planes all in all. In an impressive show of teamwork they all fired off their payloads while steering well-clear of each other, only pulling away after they had shot off several missiles. The vessel lit up in a blinding series of explosions that blossomed intensely and were followed by tremendous booms that reached all across the city. Peter narrowed his eyes before the destructive display and was thus still looking at the ship when the explosions finally died down to reveal a complete lack of damage to its structure.

“Fuck,” Fury spat, despite his earlier prediction of such an outcome.

“What now?” Felicia asked, watching the fighter planes quickly retreating from the heart of the city.

As if in reply, a series of faint hissing sounds reached them as dozens of large missiles rose up skywards from somewhere off in the Long Island Sound.

“Now,” the one-eyed man said grimly, “we see how good our Navy boys’ aim is, because if they screw up we’ll never live this down.”

The missiles began a downwards arc once they had reached a certain altitude and, falling rapidly, they all headed straight for the Korbinite ship. One after another they hit their mark, resulting in even brighter flashes of fire and far louder explosions. Many of the bystanders behind them screamed in surprise as a sound wave powerful enough to rattle and even crack what few windows remained intact swept through the suburb. Although he had checked his expectations, Peter still felt a sinking disappointment as the dust settled over the utterly-undamaged ship. _‘The son of a bitch isn’t even defending itself – it knows we can’t so much as put a scratch on it.’_

“Alright, then,” Fury said, sighing. “That’s all our boxes ticked. It’s time for the more extreme measures.”

“Let me guess,” Felicia said accusingly as she watched the smoke from the explosions descend upon Manhattan like an enormous snowfall. “You’re gonna nuke it?”

“A good guess, Ms. Hardy,” Fury nodded. “And accurate.”

“Seriously?” Peter had suspected that he would say that, but had still hoped that such dangerous means would only be used as a last resort. Somehow, the enormity of his words – that someone was actually willing to detonate a nuclear weapon in New York City – wasn’t quite sinking in. “That’s… that’s just insane.”

The commander raised an eyebrow and took a step towards him. “An alien spaceship that is completely invulnerable to some of our best weaponry has parked itself above one of our greatest cities and its occupant has threatened to wipe out all life on Earth the moment it’s ready to do so. Everything about this situation _is_ insane, kid.” He smiled suddenly. “Do you have any idea how many calls our top brass must be getting from the rest of the world right now? And we haven’t even shared your conversation with the Korbinite yet…”

“Still-”

“Don’t worry, Spider-Man,” Fury said, his odd smile still persisting. “All this craziness is how I was able to sneak in my own last resort plan before they switch to the nuclear option. You know what I’m talking about, son.”

Peter once again felt the odd sensation trickling across his body like an army of ants, this time even stronger than before.

“That’s what I thought,” the one-eyed man declared as he scrutinized the area around them. “It’s here.”

“How did you know?” He winced as the feeling persisted uncomfortably.

“I might not know a lot about the symbiote’s biological properties or those of its ‘offspring’,” the man replied, “but I’ve seen and told enough lies to recognize the truth in an instant. If you told me your suit reproduced and you saw the result, then I truly believed you.”

“What are you talking about?” Felicia asked, suddenly confused.

“We’re talking about dramatic timing, Ms. Hardy,” Fury explained unhelpfully. “I’m trying to tell young Spider-Man here that when an eldritch monster promises to show up again at the eleventh hour, it’ll probably do so in a familiar place at the last possible opportunity.” He suddenly turned around and faced the ruins of the Parker household. “You’re out there, aren’t you?”

“Peter, what the hell is going on?” Felicia put a hand on his shoulder as his body started shivering. “Jesus, are you okay?”

“It’s here,” he said, trying to focus on maintaining control over the suit. “The offspring.” Sweat was breaking out all over his body and he felt a cold nausea deep within his gut. _‘Jesus Christ, let this day be over already…’_

“Where is it?” Fury suddenly turned back towards him. “I knew it would come. Tell me, son!”

“It’s-”

“Ssso the skin breaks and the mmmm-blood poursss… like a rrrripe orange.” The awful, familiar voice spoke into his mind. “And a mere mannn thinks to know my hearrrt...”

“Ah,” Felicia suddenly winced, touching a hand to her forehead. “Christ… Peter, is that…?”

Looking about, he saw that Fury and the soldiers behind him all stumble in place, as if they had briefly been robbed of their senses. The commander quickly recovered, but the two infantrymen had blanched visibly as they turned about with their weapons at the ready. _‘It’s talking to all of us… God, it really came here…’_

“Mmmmrrrrn,” the creature growled deeply, “I told you we would mmmeet again once you had masterrrred yourself, fffather.”

“Where are you?!” Peter tried to sense the creature’s location as he called out, but to no avail. While the suit was still reacting oddly and tightening against his skin, it seemed to be far calmer than it had been during its last encounter with its offspring in the alleyway. “I still don’t know what you mean by that!”

“Yyyou have stood before the hunter and survivedddd,” it hissed. “The weakness is now subjugated to yourrrr courage, loverrrr.”

Felicia winced in pain again and looked at him. “What the hell did it just call you?”

“Flessssh,” the offspring continued, ignoring her. “These thingsss around you are but mmmm-mere flesh, aaaah. Let us feasssst on them together and ssslay the hunter, father!”

“No-one’s feasting on anything here,” Fury called out, clenching his jaw in pain. “I have a proposition for you, monster.”

“I have nothinggg to say to livestock…”

“Well, I’ve sure as hell got something to say to you.” Turning towards his two subordinates, Fury waved an arm and called out to them. “Is the street evacuated yet?”

One of the soldiers looked behind him at the now-empty cul-de-sac and nodded. “S-Sir, it looks-”

“Then go! Get back to the Blackhawk and stay there, understood?”

“Y-Yes, sir!” The two infantrymen quickly turned about and fled from the disconcerting situation.

“Mmmeaningless…” the creature snarled.

“I just want a little privacy for us to talk,” Fury explained, now barely showing any more signs of pain from the telepathic link. “Now, you said you needed a host, right? Someone other than your dear daddy?” He swallowed. “But not just any human, right?”

“Annny of you will do.”

“And you think you can take on that alien?” He pointed towards the spacecraft in the sky. “That Korbinite?”

“I am evolutionnn honed into a blade, mmmmm. I am everything the weaknessss is not, and thus nothinggg the hunter has prepared for.”

“No,” Peter suddenly said with absolute certainty. “You’re wrong – the Korbinite knows about you. It sensed your presence before even reaching the planet.”

There was a brief silence during which the distant wails of ambulances and police cars could be faintly heard.

“I see your truthhh, lover. Then we must adapt, mmmmm, strength to match strengthhhh. Fury… you know what I nnneed. You alwaysss knew, didn’t you.”

The one-eyed man seemed poised to snap back at the formless voice, but he finally sighed and nodded. “You’re right. Ever since I saw the Korbinite…” He suddenly raised his head to look at Peter. “We can’t take any chances – you saw what it did, you know better than anyone what we’re up against. If we don’t pull this off in one shot-”

“What did you do, Fury?” Peter grimaced, feeling a cold pit in his stomach. “What the hell are you talking about?”

“I had a countermeasure ready even without your ghoulish friend. But if we can really mix the two…”

A disjointing, hissing sound filled their ears as the creature _laughed_ …

“Bannerrr,” it growled. “Bring me Banner, and victorrry is assured.”

“Banner?” Felicia suddenly raised her head and glared at Fury. “Bruce Banner? Are you out of your fucking mind?”

“I would like to think so, Ms. Hardy,” the man replied tersely. “Seeing as I’m thinking of making our most dangerous asset exponentially more useful…”

“You knew all along,” Peter said, looking at the man accusingly. “You knew about the offspring before I even told you, didn’t you?”

The scarred man straightened his military uniform and took a step towards him. “I was Director of SHIELD on board the Triskelion for ten years, kid. You think in all that time I never paid attention?”

“Tell me,” he demanded, feeling a growing sense of anger at the perceived betrayal. “Tell me everything.”

“Normally I wouldn’t have to tell you a single goddamn thing, son,” he snapped back, “but circumstances compel me to at least let you in on the basics. Hell, you’ve probably already figured out the gist of it yourself; you remember the spider that bit you, right?”

“Only too well.”

“Then know that it was our sole long-living host of a symbiote sample. Our sole _long-living_ host.” The older man suddenly grimaced. “When we physically excised parts of that sample and injected them into new hosts, you know what we got? Hyper-aggressive and physically-enhanced ‘offspring’ like your buddy here who, best of all, were particularly short-lived.”

“So that’s it? You want to make the Brooklyn Abomination into a host for the suit’s offspring to make it even more dangerous? You must be out of your goddamn mind, Fury.”

“Look around you!” He waved an arm about at the destruction around them. “You might not have realized this from your limited viewpoint, but the dead already number in the millions, and if our scientists can be trusted that was just the Korbinite cocking its gun! We _cannot_ risk losing this fight, not now.”

“The monster that Banner became was almost unkillable all on its own,” he snapped back, standing his ground despite the mind-numbing death toll. “I don’t know how you plan to stop it if it goes berserk while bonded with that creature.”

“Ergo the ‘short-lived’ part, kid. Seriously, you’d be making me give up the entire plan right now if we weren’t dealing with a mind-reader.”

“Indeed, livestock,” the hidden creature breathed. “Your monster grrrants me the strength I need and I provide it with, mmmmm, the fffocus to fight the hunterrr…”

“That’s right,” Fury said, looking about. “You wouldn’t last long regardless of the host and you won’t be able to keep on going without one; that’s just your lot. This way, however, you can take down that damn Korbinite with you.”

“Mmmmrrrrnn, I lust for the hunterrr’s flesh above all else… I could agree to thisss course of action.”

“Fury!” Peter took a sharp step towards the man. “This is a bad idea, I’m telling you. I won’t be able to do anything if things get out of hand.”

The scarred man shot him a cold one-eyed glare. “Then maybe it’s about time you accept the fact that it’s not always up to you to save the day, Spider-Man.”

“This is a total fucking circus,” Felicia interjected harshly. “Since we got an alien visitor over an hour and a half ago we’ve had Spider-Man, the Air Force and the Navy all thrown at it, with talks of a roided up Abomination and a nuclear bomb to follow. I must be high on something, because this all just screams of sheer lunacy, Commander.”

“And you think I haven’t noticed that myself?”

“Not really,” she sneered. “Let me guess: Banner’s already on his way here, isn’t he? That’s why you had the street cleared.”

“Very perceptive. You may have noticed that time is not exactly on our side here.”

“Jesus,” Peter whispered. “How long ago did you make up your mind?”

“It must’ve been around the moment I saw that alien beast chasing you across the ship’s surface and shrugging off armour-piercing rounds.” He checked his wristwatch impatiently. “Don’t think I hoped it might never come to this, though.”

“Do you even have a backup plan in case this all goes to hell?”

“You know what? That’s none-” Fury glanced up towards the sky and heaved a sigh of relief. “It’s about goddamn time.”

The couple looked up to see a large twin-rotored helicopter approaching from the east and heading directly for the cul-de-sac. The sound of its propellers filled the air as it quickly began its descent further down the street. Peter was filled with dread at the mere thought of its cargo – a man who had been kept in an artificial coma ever since he had transformed into a being a pure hatred and strength and killed hundreds of innocent people. _‘Banner… did he agree to any of this? Did Fury even wake him up yet?’_

“Alright,” the commander said, turning towards Peter. “I’ll ask you once cordially: do you want in on this?”

“What do you mean?” He frowned. “Are you asking me if I want to go along with Banner?”

“That’s right. This mission is happening with or without you, so-”

“No,” growled the creature, surprising them. “Not without fatherrr.”

“Pardon?”

“Father must come withhhh… he must watch me triumph, mmmmrrrnn. I will not help otherwise.”

“Now listen here just a second-”

“I’ll do it,” Peter said, almost on impulse. “I’ll go with Banner.”

“Peter!” Felicia hissed quietly as she grabbed him by the wrist. “This is fucked up! What are you even going to do up there?”

“I don’t know,” he admitted. “But at least I’ll have another shot at the alien. And besides, it doesn’t look like the offspring’s giving me much choice.”

“There’s always a choice.”

“Not this time,” he said, shaking his head. “Not for me. The Korbinite, the symbiote… I have to see this through.”

Felicia was silent for a moment as she bit her lip, before finally letting go of his wrist. “Alright, fuck it. I’m going with you.”

“No, that’s-”

“Don’t even start,” she interrupted him bluntly. “I said it not twenty minutes ago, didn’t I? We’re in on this together all the way to the very end.”

Peter opened his mouth to protest, but suddenly opted against it in the realization that it would neither be efficient nor fair to try to argue her point. _‘Dammit, I wouldn’t even be here if it weren’t for her. In a situation like this, I guess she’s hardly safer down here than she would be up there.’_ What was more, he doubted that he would actually be of much use without her; between his encounter with the Korbinite and Aunt May’s death he had felt tired and defeated until her mere presence had reinvigorated him.

Above them, the aircraft was finalizing its descent. Peter smiled thinly and nodded towards her casual attire. “You plan to help me save the world in those clothes?”

“What?” She glanced down at her damaged t-shirt and smirked. “You don’t think Nightwish can get the job done?”

“If you two are done,” Fury interrupted quickly, “I need a definite answer before Banner arrives.”

“We’re in,” Peter nodded. “Both of us.”

“Good,” Fury said sarcastically as he turned to watch the helicopter complete its landing. “I’m sure you’ll be a big help in case this Frankenstein monster doesn’t make the cut.”

“Wait, Fury!” Peter caught up with the man and looked him straight in the eye. “Please, I need to know now: do you have a backup plan?”

The commander regarded him oddly for a moment and smiled amusedly. “Our mutual friends are on their way, you’ll be glad to hear. They were still hiding out upstate when all this went down, and were quick to offer a helping hand despite what it could mean for them.”

“Mutual friends?” _‘No way.’_ “You mean…”

“That’s right, kid.” For the first time since their first meeting, Nick Fury grinned outright. “Rejoice, for the Brotherhood of Mutants is coming to save the day.”


	14. Chapter 14

As the dual-rotored helicopter, which Fury referred to as a Chinook, finally began to lower its rear access ramp Peter couldn’t help but feel a rising sense of trepidation. The one-eyed commander seemed to notice how the couple stood aside and some distance away from the vehicle and grinned.

“Losing your nerve?”

“I didn’t exactly have a pleasant last encounter with Banner,” Peter retorted. “We have no way of knowing how he’ll react to being woken up, so I’d rather err on the side of caution.”

“Make no mistake,” the grey-haired man said, turning towards him. “Doctor Banner is well aware of what’s going on here. He even agreed to this.”

“What?” Felicia called out incredulously, nursing the arm she had bandaged up with supplies provided by the commander. “I thought his sentence was to stay on ice indefinitely.”

“That was the public story, yeah.” He turned back towards the Chinook. “Dr. Banner, however, is a valuable asset that we didn’t want to let go to waste. We only thawed him out periodically now and again.”

“I should’ve known the military wouldn’t let a chance to act like scumbags pass by,” she hissed. “What did you tell him?”

“I might’ve mentioned an alien invasion that could only be stopped through his sacrifice, something like that. Banner’s been keen to repent for all those civilian deaths, so it wasn’t particularly hard to convince him.”

Peter clenched his jaw. Despite all the atrocities that had been committed by the Brooklyn Abomination, he felt ill at ease standing by as someone was essentially fed to the offspring. He was about to speak up about the matter when the access ramp completed its descent. From where they stood, they could see that the vast interior space was occupied only by some sort of electric stretcher bed and a pair of men in lab coats. On the bed, well-secured by straps around his wrists and ankles, lay an unconscious Bruce Banner dressed in a white prison jumpsuit.

The once-eminent scientist looked far thinner and more worn-down than the last time Peter had seen him, which had coincidentally been seconds after the Abomination had been dispelled. He could remember how controversial the decision had been to keep the man on ice rather than executing him for his enormous murder spree; at the time, the tribunal’s ruling that trying to kill him might make the monster resurface and was thus less preferable than safely freezing him had made a great deal of sense. In hindsight, however, he knew that he should have expected the military and intelligence agencies to simply do whatever they wanted despite the will of the people.

The two doctors, who both wore hazmat suits complete with oxygen masks, made their way down the ramp to speak with Fury, who met them halfway.

“What’s his condition?”

“Stable, sir,” one of the doctors replied, offering him a clipboard with some documents. “These are his newest readings-”

“These don’t mean shit to me,” Fury said dismissively. “I just need to know two things: is he communicative, and can he transform?”

The doctor, whose gaze had wandered up towards the giant spacecraft in the sky, quickly nodded after snapping his attention back to his superior. “Sir, yes sir. Yes to both queries. Just hit the injector switch on the bed to wake him up, then apply the chemical dosage to trigger the transformation.”

“Thank you.” The commander pointed past the Chinook, down the street. “There’s a helicopter waiting for you two blocks down. It’ll bring you to safety. Get going, now.”

“Yes, sir. Good luck, Commander.”

As he watched the two men run off, Fury pulled out his radio and switched its frequency before holding it up to his ear. “Pilot, do you read me? Are you aware of what’s about to happen?” There was a momentary pause as he received an answer and nodded. “Then no matter what, don’t panic and don’t take off without my get-go. Everything that will transpire here is part of our plan. Over and out.” Once again changing the frequency on his radio, Fury spoke into it while advancing towards the lowered ramp. “Command, this is Commander Nick Fury. Commencing Operation Stormbreaker now. Over and out.”

After hesitating for a moment, Peter and Felicia followed the older man into the Chinook. He was tampering with some buttons on the intricate electric bed when he noticed them and held up a hand.

“Hold on,” the commander said curtly. “Get rid of that mask, Spider-Man.”

“What? Why?”

“Because the last time Banner saw that iconic face of yours was when you were suffocating him within an inch of his life. I don’t want to trigger a reaction before making sure everything’s in place.”

Peter nodded and did as he was told. Next to him, Felicia smiled wryly and elbowed his arm.

“Dude, you almost choked the Abomination to death? That’s hardcore.”

“I didn’t exactly have much of a choice,” he explained, trying not to recall the unpleasant experience. “Plus, I wasn’t trying to kill him.”

“Still hardcore.”

“Ms. Hardy, if you don’t mind my asking,” Fury spoke up, clearly trying not to let his impatience show. “Are you sure it’s wise that you come along? I mean no offense, but I honestly feel like you’d just be a burden.”

“Wow. Okay.” Felicia smirked impudently, but Peter didn’t fail to notice the flash of annoyance in her eyes. “First of all, why are you using my real name all the time?”

“Because no-one we encounter will have any goddamn clue who you are,” the grey-haired man sighed impatiently. “That’s my point. Your powers are, what? Professional burglaring?”

“My power is luck, old man,” she retorted harshly. “That means that just by sitting in that helicopter with you I can ensure that it won’t get blown up mid-air or struck by one of those lightning bolts.”

“Is this true?” Fury turned towards Peter.

“Yeah,” he said, nodding. “It might seem like a pretty abstract concept, but yes.”

The man glared suspiciously at Felicia for a moment before finally shrugging. “Guess something like that couldn’t hurt. Besides, it’s your funeral.” He walked up to the bed and started pressing a combination of buttons on a small keypad. The couple stood behind the soldier and watched as the mousy, restrained man began twitching in response to liquids being injected through the IV-tubes hooked into his arms.

Banner’s eyes fluttered briefly and then, suddenly, he began to fight violently against his restraints.

“Otto!” The man’s voice was hoarse as he called out and tried to free himself, wide-eyed and desperate. “Otto… he…”

“Calm down, Doctor Banner,” Fury said, unfazed as he pressed another series of buttons while placing a free hand on the man’s chest. “You’re safe. Everything’s okay.”

“But Osborn… Osborn…”

“That’s in the past, doctor. Take deep breaths and recall our last talk.” He watched as a new liquid was injected into Banner’s veins. “The world is in danger, and your research on the symbiote is our only hope.”

“Danger…” The mousy former scientist was covered in sweat as he finally slumped back down on the bed. “What danger...?”

“Something from deep space has come seeking the symbiote and we need your power to stop it.”

“My power… ooooh God… my head…”

“Are you lucid now, Doctor?”

“Yes… yes.” He sniffed and blinked tears from his eyes. “This procedure… it’s getting more difficult with every awakening.”

“This could well be the final one,” Fury said flatly. “Do you recall exactly what we discussed earlier today on the phone?”

“Y-Yes, I do.” Banner swallowed with some difficulty. “The Korbinite, you called it? An extraterrestrial being of immense physical strength…”

“That’s right. The son of a bitch is wreaking havoc in the city and only you can stop him. Do you remember the plan?”

“To use the… the transformative properties of my DNA to trigger another mutation of the Oz genes…” He took a deep breath. “And then, to adjoin me with an orphan symbiote sample that will take over with its animal instincts to survive…”

“This one’s a lot less animalistic than the ones we’ve dealt with before, but yes.”

The shaggy-haired man nodded. “So… you get to enhance the creature within me for a short while, and in return I…” He suddenly smiled weakly. “I can finally end it?”

“That’s right.” Fury patted the man’s chest gently. “The top brass agreed to it. No more nightmares, no more reliving the past… I just needed to make sure that you were on board with this.”

“You know the answer better than anyone,” Banner said firmly. “I want this. I deserve this. Yes, I’m on board – one hundred percent.”

“Good. Thank you, doctor.” The commander patted the man’s shoulder. “I’ll make sure that-”

“Hold on a moment,” Peter called out as he stepped forward, no longer bearing to simply watch in silence. “Doctor Banner, are you sure about this?”

“Who are you?” The mousy man tried to look past Fury, who was glaring furiously at the superhero. “Do I know you?”

“My name is Peter Parker,” he said, stepping up to the bed. “I- I’m Spider-Man.”

“Spider-Man?” Banner tried to raise himself up higher, but the restraints were keeping him in a lying position. New lights flickered across the monitors built into the bed, which the one-eyed soldier quickly tended to. “My God, I… I remember you.”

“That’s right,” Peter said, taking another nervous step forward. “Though I fear we met under rough circumstances.”

“I- oh God… I’m so glad you’re here.” A great sadness suddenly clouded the man’s eyes, and he released a shuddering breath. “I always wanted to thank you, Spider-Man.”

“Thank me?”

“Yes… for stopping me when no-one else could. For putting an end to that sad chapter.” He looked Peter up and down in amazement. “My God, it’s I was told… you’re wearing the symbiote. You bonded with it… positively remarkable.”

“Doctor Banner, there might be some other way to defeat the alien,” he said quickly, suddenly feeling a need to stand up for the man. “You don’t have to throw away your life-”

“Kid!” Fury hissed furiously under his breath.

“Throw away? Oh, Spider-Man…” Banner smiled again, and it was an even sadder sight than before. “I threw my life away the moment I made the choices that cost my closest friend and hundreds of others their lives. This is my chance to finally do some good.”

“But you won’t survive if the offspring bonds with you…”

“That’s what I’m counting on.” For the first time since he’d been awoken, the mousy scientist’s eyes gleamed with energy and purpose. “This icy prison, if you will, is a fate worse than death. Having to relive the last moments before my transformation over and over again, day after day after day…” He screwed his eyes shut and shook his head. “And with the top brass refusing to just let it end… God, it was… it was true hell. This is my chance to bow out.”

“Doesn’t mean you have to die!” Peter felt oddly shaken by the longing with which the man spoke of death.

“Doesn’t it?” His look was sympathetic, rather than accusatory. “I need to be punished, Spider-Man. For all those lives… men, women and children… there simply has to be a punishment. Fury is giving me the chance to save the world, atone for what I’ve done, and put an end to the sentence passed upon me by my government…” He chuckled weakly. “This is all I could possibly want, kid. After all the shit I did… I get one more chance to shine.”

“We’re running out of time,” Fury declared softly.

Peter wanted to say something to change the man’s mind, but could think of nothing that could possibly sound right after all that he had heard.

“Thank you,” Banner said, looking at Fury, “for giving me this chance. Truly.”

“Of course, Doctor.”

“And you, too, Peter Parker,” he added, lifting his head. “Thank you for what you did before… and thank you for caring. Don’t give him a hard time, General,” he added, looking back at the one-eyed man.

The soldier nodded solemnly and pressed a series of buttons on the built-in panel. “Commencing the controlled transformation now. Goodnight, Doctor Banner.”

Banner didn’t reply, almost immediately having sunk into a deep sleep with a thin smile on his face. After inputting another sequence into a separate panel by the mousy scientist’s leg, Fury stood up straight and motioned for the couple to follow him out of the Chinook. Peter threw one last glance at the sleeping former scientist before making his way down the ramp.

“I should really give you an earful for what you did in there,” the grey-haired man said, rounding on him, “but I’m not usually one to deny a man’s final request.”

“Sounds like you two knew each other pretty well,” Felicia said bitterly. “But you’re just gonna let him go through with this?”

Fury was silent for a moment as he turned his gaze towards the Korbinite’s ship. “There are times when the only thing you have left to give is your life, Ms. Hardy.”

“I don’t subscribe to that theory,” she spat back. “This is just the military at its finest – making the most out of all its assets – even when all that’s left are broken, suicidal men.”

“Think what you will, young lady.” Before she could answer, the grey-haired man turned towards the cul-de-sac and raised his voice. “Are you still out there, fiend?”

“Alllways,” echoed the inhuman voice in their heads.

“Good.” Fury nodded, wincing in pain again. “Come on out now. The timing for this has to be precise. If you don’t show yourself, we’re starting without you.”

“Silence, livestock,” the beast growled. “I would hear fatherrr ask me to come.”

Peter, who had been silent up until then, suddenly found himself at the centre of attention. “What do you mean?”

“Sssummon me to your side, mmmmrrrrnn, and I shall take this host.”

“Is this really necessary?” Fury called out.

“Come, loverrr,” the creature hissed, ignoring the man’s words. “Call for me…”

 _‘Jesus Christ… it wants me to assume responsibility, doesn’t it? For Banner…’_ Peter swallowed, remembering the peaceful look on the man’s face. It had been such a jarring sight to see a man finding hope in death, but still he wondered if he could bring himself to unleash upon him the horror that lurked just out of sight. He glanced at the ruined Parker homestead, where Aunt May’s broken body still lay...

“Please, kid,” the one-eyed man urged softly. “Let’s get this done.”

“Peter,” Felicia said, gently placing a hand on his shoulder. “It’s up to you, but… I think that man wants this more than anything.”

“I know,” he replied quietly, looking into her eyes. “I just don’t think he really knows what’s out there.”

Violent, drawn-out cracks from the sporadic lightning raining down on Manhattan filled the air in the silence that followed, now in far shorter intervals than before.

Peter took a deep breath. _‘I’m sorry, Banner.’_

“Come to me,” he said in as strong a voice as he could muster. “Help us. I implore you.”

“Mmmmmrrrrrrn-yessssss!”

Everyone in the cul-de-sac jumped in surprise as the pile of rubble in the centre of May Parker’s house suddenly rose and fell apart loudly in a cloud of dust and plaster. Beneath the landslide of wood and stone, Peter could see the pair of white eyes amidst a sea of crimson flesh that had confronted him in that dark alleyway only a few days prior. _‘It was right here – under May’s house…’_

“You were alwaysss bound to come home, loverrr…” The creature lifted itself up to its full height, discarding the concrete foundation it had torn its way out of like it was mere sand. Its long, forked tongue hung loosely from its grotesque, reptilian grin. “And so we meet againnn…”

“Jesus fucking Christ,” Felicia swore, staring wide-eyed in horror as she gripped Peter’s arm. “Holy fucking fuck…”

Fury, while far less expressive in his reaction, appeared to be no less horrified by the beast advancing ponderously towards them through the cloud of dust that it had created. Even in the afternoon sunlight, the creature’s enormous body of exposed muscle seemed to gleam viscously as it rippled and twitched. Every step that it took with its four legs created a series of clattering sounds as its long claws tapped against pavement.

The monster, Peter noticed, advanced along a path that led it clear of Aunt May’s body. He relaxed his fists and exhaled a breath of relief, though he was still fully poised to strike out at the creature at a moment’s notice.

“Incredible,” Fury breathed, one hand hovering over his holstered sidearm. “The orphan of a human host…”

“Nnnooo, Fury. Not an orphannnn…” The horrid thing finally halted its advance at the front lawn and glared at them from a low angle like a crouching lion. “I was not excisssed in a lab, livestock. I was crrreated through blood and rrrage and passion, aaaaahhhh. I am a prrroduct of love.”

“That may be the case,” the man said, standing his ground, “but if you take this host you will still cannibalize yourself within a day. That’s why I’m giving you this one chance to do something for… for your father here.”

“That was the deallll.”

“Jesus…” Despite the abhorring sight, Fury seemed to regard the creature with genuine curiosity. “How can you talk so well? The other orphans…”

“They were the spawnnnns of beasts,” it hissed, taking a step towards Peter. “And I have kept fffeeding, loverrr… are you not prrroud?”

“Stay back!” Peter lifted an arm protectively before Felicia as the suit began to react to the creature’s proximity. _‘This can’t be happening. I should be putting an end to this miserable thing, not fighting alongside it…’_

“Hrrrrrrm…” It was impossible to determine any sort of emotion from the creature’s face as it ceased its approach. “We will embrace before the day isss done...” It suddenly licked its jowls and turned towards the helicopter’s ramp. “I see the flesh…”

“Yes,” Fury said, unable to hide the guilt in his voice. “That’s him. I hit a switch, he begins to transform, and you… you do your thing.”

“Then hurry, mmmmrrrrnn. I thirssst for the Korbinite’s blood…”

The grey-haired man nodded and, his hand still on his sidearm, ran over to the Chinook. Peter felt enormously grateful that the street had been cleared of all civilians long before – he doubted that any of them would react even half as well as the commander had to the sight before them. The creature craned its neck to look directly towards him as it passed by on its unhurried way towards the helicopter.

“Not much longerrrr now... Peter.”

The creature’s sudden use of his name caught Peter completely by surprise, but before he could react in any way he was startled by a deep, familiar growl from the aircraft. He turned towards the Chinook just in time to see Fury hurrying back down to the street as the bed restraining Banner began to rattle and shake violently.

“It’s done!” The commander sounded almost breathless as he stood aside from the helicopter’s ramp and called out to the creature. “He’s still out cold, but the chemicals should’ve jumpstarted the transformation. Wait until-”

“I will know when the time issss right,” the beast growled, stepping onto the ramp. “Just enjoy the sssshow.”

The couple carefully approached the helicopter, standing a few metres behind Fury as they watched the skinless monstrosity looming over Banner, whose muscles were now tearing and spurting blood as they grew exponentially and ripped apart his jumpsuit. A thin layer of steam rose from his body as the unconscious man opened his mouth to emit a sound somewhere between a scream and a growl. _‘Jesus… Jesus Christ... it’s not just growing around him, but out of him…’_ Peter felt sick just watching, and Felicia covered her mouth as she averted her eyes from the scene.

The clean, white interior of the Chinook was spattered in blood as Banner’s body grew at an exponential pace. His muscles continued to rip and spasm as they developed mass out of thin air, and it wasn’t long before he had completely outgrown the bed he had been strapped into, knocking it aside as he fell to the floor in a naked, distorted mess that flailed about and screamed wildly. The offspring observed the entire procedure in perfect silence from the edge of the helicopter’s ramp, its long head now partly specked in the man’s blood as the steam filling the transport hold began to envelope its skinless body.

Tiny objects clattered across the blood-smeared floor, and it took Peter a moment to realize that they were human teeth.

As the first sickly-green patches of leathery skin began to form around the freshly-birthed flesh, Fury raised his radio to his mouth and cleared his throat. “Commencing the third stage now – bring in the cage. Over and out.”

It didn’t take much longer for the transformation to be complete – just under a minute – but in that time all traces of Bruce Banner had vanished from the interior of the blood-flecked helicopter, leaving behind only the unconscious green beast known to the world as the Brooklyn Abomination. It was breathing slowly, its bloodied green chest falling and rising rhythmically as it lay motionless on the floor of the helicopter that could barely fit its entire frame.

The sight of the transformation had completely shocked Peter, who could only wonder under what circumstances such a gruelling and drawn-out process could have first taken place on Governor’s Island during those first few weeks since he’d first become Spider-Man, so many months ago. _‘SHIELD, Stark, Fury, the Savage Land…’_ It had all been one long chain of scheming, pain and greed that now culminated in this insane moment under a sky adorned with a monument to death. _‘Ben, May, Steve, Banner…’_ There was no apparent end to the suffering spiralling like a whirlwind around his life, and the realization filled Peter with a sudden and intense rage.

The offspring hissed and stepped into the veritable sauna encompassing the sleeping giant and placed a clawed hand on its chest.

“Peter,” Felicia breathed, her face pale from dismay and fear. “Peter, it’s...”

Almost acting on impulse, Peter stepped away from the white-haired girl and strode quickly towards the Chinook with his glare set on the beast. Fury seemed to notice his approach instantly and turned while pulling out his sidearm in one smooth motion, pointing the weapon at him.

“Stop, Parker!” Fury yelled determinedly, foregoing his alter ego name as he clenched his jaw. “You can’t stop this! Think, damn you!”

“Or you’ll shoot me?” Peter slowed his approach and readied his hand to fire off a web and disarm the man. “Fury, this can’t be how we-”

The pained roar that emanated from within the helicopter was so chilling and unnatural in its fusion of man and beast the both of them could only stare in horror as the offspring split open its chest like a bloody sarcophagus and completely enveloped the Brooklyn Abomination in a frenzied embrace.

Blood splattered all the way to the Chinook’s ceiling a second before the steam inside its transport hold increased to such a thick amount as to completely obscure the scene within it in a veritable mist. The heavy silence that followed was quickly broken by a scream of pure, unfettered anguish.

The voice making the sound was no longer the Abomination’s, but unmistakeably belonged to Banner. It only lasted for a second before it trailed off into a series of snapping sounds.

“No…” Fury dropped his arm limply as he staggered away from the ramp. “What… what in the world…”

Peter stood by the man, unsure of what to do next when, suddenly, a voice emerged from the pinkish mist that froze him to the spot. While still spoken through telepathy it was no longer a monstrous growl uttered directly into his mind but, rather, a sound like several individuals of varying tones and timbers speaking the same line over each other. The effect was almost soothing, rather than painful.

“Yes… everything aligns. My heart, my soul… it is perfect. Such is evolution.”

 _‘What… what the hell?’_ Peter took a staggering step backwards as his chest was gripped by a cold, fearful sensation unlike any he had ever experienced before. Felicia ran up to his side and looked on in bewilderment as the mist began to clear. _‘Something’s wrong, something’s not-’_

“All is in order, lover,” the voice spoke up. “A pupa has merely become a butterfly.”

“Enough with the theatrics!” Fury waved his sidearm, but didn’t holster it. “Show yourself!”

“Aaaah, the fumes of creation. For matter to manifest from thin air… observe.” A large, crimson limb suddenly swept out and across the mist, parting it and revealing the beast that stood within.

The sight was like one taken directly from a nightmare.

Walls, blood and ceiling coated and dripping with blood – the blood of the Brooklyn Abomination, the remains of which lay in a mangled heap at the centre of the cargo hold, torn in twine like a rotten fruit dripping viscera and riddled with jutting bones.

And above it all, standing on a pair of digitigrade legs and coated in blood like a new-born, was the offspring – now far more humanoid than before. With a powerful, skinless body of muscles twitching spasmodically and intertwined with ribbed veins, it was a great deal slimmer than the Abomination and far shorter at around two metres. It seemed to be engrossed in studying its own two hands, which ended in long, sharp claws that clacked when they were tapped against each other. After a moment it looked up at them and slowly drew back its lips in a sharp-toothed grin that almost stretched as far as the back of its head.

As the sexless being advanced down the ramp, leaving in its wake a bloody trail of footprints, Peter realized that it completely lacked eyes – unless, that was, it could somehow see through the two long, wing-like white patterns streaking across its narrow, elongated skull.

It was with a measure of terror that he realized how much they resembled distorted versions of the eyes he had created for his suit’s mask.

Fury, who had been too horrified and bewildered to say anything, quickly raised his pistol and aimed it squarely at the new creature.

“What… what the fuck is this?!” The commander, who up until then had maintained his composure through every ordeal, suddenly seemed utterly overwhelmed by what he was witnessing. “You were supposed to merge with Banner, with the Abomination! Make it your host!”

“Livestock,” it sneered in its myriad voices. “You think I would break the pact with my father, join myself with another?”

“What did you do?!” Fury was now visibly shaken as he held up his sidearm with both hands.

“I took Banner’s essence into me – his heart, his mind, and every last drop of the monster he harboured. He was truly blessed, Fury – to have given up his being for my ascension.” The creature held its horrid grin. “It hurt him, yes, and how very much so. But it was a rich, rewarding agony that he will forever treasure, just as he will always be a part of me.”

It was only then that Peter realized what was unnerving him so about the creature’s voice: it included Banner’s amongst its singsong chorus, just as it seemed to incorporate every other victim that the beast had consumed.

There were over a dozen voices...

The gunshot was so abrupt that it startled Peter and made him jump back, but the creature didn’t so much as move a muscle even after the bullet had impacted harmlessly upon its chest without leaving a mark. The same applied for the second, third and fourth bullets – it was only then that Fury finally lowered his weapon.

“Weak, feeble, and so very disappointingly human.” The creature regarded the one-eyed commander serenely, as if he were a child. “You thought you were in complete control all the way up until the end of the world – and yet, you are still merely livestock fit for slaughter.”

“You said you would fight the Korbinite,” the man said hollowly. “That you needed Banner’s strength to defeat it.”

“That was no lie. Banner’s strength nourished me, but he was never to be my host. And I still aim to feed on the hunter.”

“So, what then?!” Fury held out his arms in desperation. “Why all the lies if the result is the exact same?”

“Because I doubt you would have let me shred your friend’s mind and spirit otherwise.”

The one-eyed soldier was quiet for a moment amidst the distant thunderclaps. “Let me guess: you no longer have an expiry date.”

“No.”

He nodded gravely and turned to look towards the ship above Manhattan. “What happens now?”

“Now you will send me up there and I shall teach the Korbinite fear and agony.”

Fury turned back towards the alien creature before him. “And after that?”

“That will be up to my host.”

“Your host?” He clenched his jaw. “You said you don’t need one.”

“I said Banner was never to be it. My host will make me a complete being, on par with the hunter.”

“Who then?”

Rather than respond to the query, the offspring simply held out a lithe, clawed hand towards Peter, as if inviting him to a dance.

“Come, lover. Only you.”

Peter simply stared at the creature, no longer feeling the same horror, revulsion or rage that had gripped him a moment before. The sight of butchery and carnage that had unfolded before him had simply been another in a long line, and as the minutes counted towards the definite end of such a miserable world he doubted that he had much choice other than to side with an incarnation of pain and hunger to save everyone. _‘It knew, from the very beginning – this being knew, with absolute certainty, that every action would lead up to this.’_ He almost felt numb as he looked at Fury, who simply stared at the ground in defeat.

“Peter, no!” Felicia, however, had far from given up as she ran up to his side. “Don’t even fucking think of it! You saw what it did to Banner, this is suicide! Let’s just wait for the Brotherhood-”

“You could taste it in the air, could you not, father?” The creature still held its hand out. “The true, unfettered strength of what has stepped out of the veil of space and into your home-”

“You shut the fuck up!” Felicia yelled, grabbing Peter’s arm tightly. “Don’t do this. We can find a way together-”

“It’s right,” Peter said simply, looking up into her eyes. They were wet with tears and wide with desperation. _‘I’m sorry to have to do this to you.’_ “I’ll help it.”

“No,” she whispered suddenly, shaking her head. “We said we’d do this together-”

“We did, Felicia,” he interrupted her, smiling sadly and brushing a hand across her cheek. “To the very end, just like you said. And we did it together – I’d never have gotten this far without you. You mean everything to me, and that’s why I have to make sure that it doesn’t all just end today.”

“Don’t. Peter-” She shook her head, biting her lip in an attempt to keep herself from choking up. “Don’t be an asshole. If you go up there, I’m fucking coming after you.”

“I’m sorry.” He freed his arm free as gently as he could and took a step back, overcoming the piercing pain in his chest. “I’ll finish this once and for all, stop the alien and this creature if I have to, and then... then I’ll come back.”

“Dammit, Peter!” She took a step to follow him, but stopped suddenly as Fury grabbed her by the shoulder. She glared up at the man and tried to shake him off, but his grip was firm. “Let go!”

“Go, Spider-Man,” the one-eyed man said simply before raising his radio up to his mouth. “Pilot, raise the ramp. You’re taking off for the target immediately – we won’t need the second Chinook anymore. Over and-” He gasped in pain as he was suddenly elbowed fiercely in the gut by the white-haired girl, but he didn’t let go even as he collapsed down to one knee.

Peter quickly followed the offspring as the ramp began to close, and only spared one last glance back towards Felicia as she finally freed herself and gave chase. Overcoming every last instinct that screamed for him to stop and stay with her, he leapt up into the image of hell before him: a chamber of blood, viscera and mist bearing, at its centre, a grinning devil. Almost slipping on the gore lining the floor, he abruptly felt a warm, gentle grip on his wrist balancing him just before the ramp encased the room in darkness and silence.

A second later, as the Chinook rumbled to life and began to take off, its on-board lights switched on automatically. Soaked as they were in blood, they cast the passenger hold in a ghastly crimson light.

The beast, standing less than a metre from him, slowly released its hold on his wrist.

Staggering back as the heat and stench from the misty, enclosed room hit him all at once, he fell to his knees and vomited on the floor.

“You made the right choice, Peter,” the chorus of voices said as the creature stood impassively above him. “Just as I always knew you would.”

“There wasn’t a choice here.” He spat, his eyes fixated on a pair of human teeth stuck amidst the entrails beneath his hands. He suddenly felt weak – like he couldn’t so much as move his muscles anymore. Tears from the sick odour all around him and the desperation clawing at his heart stung his eyes, but he couldn’t even lift a hand to wipe them away.

“There is always one,” the singsong voices purred, “and you chose me.”

Peter flinched as the creature placed a pair of clawed fingers below his chin and raised his head up. It still wore its jagged, ethereal grin as it peered down at him with the milky-white patterns that passed as its eyes, but something about it was now different. The helicopter was clearly rising higher into the sky as the beast gently applied pressure to its hand, careful not to stab into his neck with its claws, and prompted Peter to rise to his feet with sudden, newfound strength.

“See? We are as key and lock, you and I.”

“I don’t understand,” he gasped as the offspring lowered its hand back to its side. “My suit doesn’t react to you anymore…”

“You assumed that it feared me, that it begged you to flee from my sight. You were wrong.” It took several steps back, stepping on organs and viscera carelessly. “You reacted to our reunion – that merely happens once. The fear, however, was directed at the hunter.”

“The Korbinite…”

“You have faced the hunter and lived – and thus have mastered yourself. Just as I asked of you. But you mistake something, lover.”

“What?” He leaned on a nearby seat for balance as the helicopter rattled, feeling lightheaded and weak.

“I _am_ your suit,” the offspring’s voices hissed as it spread its arms out wide. “We were parted once, but can be whole again. Come, father… come to my breast.”

Almost unconsciously, robotically, Peter took a staggering step towards the beast. His heart was beating against his chest like it was trying to tear its way out and he suddenly felt short of breath, but something compelled him towards the waiting monster like an inescapable lure. He tried to form thoughts, but they were muddled at best and he hardly even registered the soft popping of bones and viscera below his feet. When he did finally manage a thought, it was only a name that kept repeating in his head over and over: _‘Felicia…’_

The offspring took another step back so that it stood cleanly between the two halves of what had once been the Brooklyn Abomination and opened its mouth wide. When it seemed like the jagged maw could not spread out any more it suddenly parted with a sickly ripping sound, blossoming into two sets of jaws that hung wide open like a toothed flower. A second later its chest, which it had kept puffed out in anticipation of his arrival, similarly parted like a door, revealing a writhing and pulsating interior of blood and small teeth.

Despite the mind-numbing terror and disgust that filled Peter at the sight, despite the urge within his very soul to _flee_ from the calamity before him, he simply continued taking slow, unsteady steps deeper into the bloody mist like a moth drawn to a flame. As he approached the creature he began to hear a familiar sound like an irregular heartbeat filling his ears more and more with every step.

“Come… Peter.” It gently brought its arms down around his shoulders and drew him in, within it. “Let us be one, now and forever.”

The heartbeat ceased.


	15. Chapter 15

A light gust of wind had begun to move through the cul-de-sac, blowing some of Felicia’s hair over her face as she sat in the middle of the cracked road and watched the Chinook rise towards the Korbinite ship. The rain of lightning bolts had now increased with frightening intensity, and several of the electric currents had outright torn apart swathes from the larger skyscrapers; hardly any of the tall buildings remained standing by this point. _‘This is definitely not how I pictured the end of the world.’_ Sighing exhaustedly, she leaned over to her side and smacked the unconscious one-eyed man’s face several more times with the back of her hand. He suddenly woke up with a body-wide jolt and brought a hand up to his bleeding mouth.

“Fucking finally,” she said, more frustrated than angry. “I never thought you’d be out for so long. What a wimp.”

“You… I was a general, for fuck’s sake…” Suddenly feeling something in his mouth, Fury made a pained expression and spat out a bloodied, broken tooth onto the pavement. “You didn’t have to hit me like that, miss.”

“And you didn’t have to hold me back from that creature,” she snapped back.

“How long was I out for?”

“Five minutes, give or take.” Grunting, she rose up to her feet and held out a hand for him. “Come on, call me a chopper. I’m going up there.”

The grey-haired man glanced up towards the distant Chinook and grabbed her hand. “That won’t be happening.”

“And why the hell not?” She had to resist the urge to let him drop back down onto the pavement as she helped him up until he stood by her side.

“Because I’m calling in the nuclear option,” he said simply, his eyes still on the alien craft far above.

“What a load of crap!” Her anger suddenly flared back up as she felt a sudden urge to punch him again. “Peter’s gone up there to make sure both those alien creatures are put down for good, and that’s your best plan of action?”

“Two birds with one stone,” he said, wiping dust and soot off his dirtied uniform. “We can’t take the risk of the symbiote running rampant if it could cause just as much damage as the Korbinite.”

“Save your bullshit,” she sneered. “You don’t even know if a fucking nuke would so much as leave a dent on either of them. The only person you’d hurt is your one chance of putting an end to this whole mess.”

“You don’t know what you’re talking about, Ms. Hardy.”

“Oh, don’t I?” She almost spat on the ground at his feet, but thought better of it. “If you really intended to launch a nuke at that ship you wouldn’t even have bothered telling me. That means you either seek my forgiveness or my approval.” She raised her chin to meet his glare. “You won’t get either.”

Fury nodded towards his satellite radio, which she had clipped onto her belt. “Give that back.”

“You must be out of your damn mind. Try me, Commander, I dare you.” She smiled thinly when she caught sight of his hand by his sidearm holster. “You really must think I was born yesterday. Good luck finding your little toy.”

“Enough playing around, you impudent child!” The one-eyed man finally snapped out in anger as he took a step towards her. “The whole planet is at stake, we can’t stand around-”

“Save your speeches. Swear to call me a chopper and you’ll get your radio back.”

“And what do you plan to do, huh?” He spat blood onto the ground and glared at her. “You get up there, and then what? You’ll talk your boyfriend into seeing the light? He stepped into that cargo hold with a vicious creature that deceived us all. I doubt he’s still alive.”

“I really don’t care about your theories, Fury.”

“And I’m not giving you an aircraft, Ms. Hardy,” he stated decisively, his expression suddenly softening somewhat. “I won’t get you and some helicopter crew killed for nothing. There’s been enough death already.”

Felicia looked up over his shoulder and smiled thinly. “Well, I guess it’s a good thing that it’s not up to you, then.”

Fury frowned and turned to see what she was looking at.

The Blackbird – easily distinguishable from any other helicopter in the area due to its unique shape – was making its way directly towards them as quietly as a bird of prey.

“You told them where we are?” The commander’s voice was oddly calm as he continued observing the stealth aircraft.

“You made it pretty easy by labelling their frequency ‘Brother’.”

When he turned back towards her, Fury’s eyes widened slightly in surprise as she held out his radio.

“Half an hour,” she said determinedly. “That’s still well within the time limit, isn’t it? Give us half an hour and then you can call in your nuke.”

The soldier hesitated for a moment before, finally, taking the radio back and smiling. “And if I don’t?”

“Then I’ll find you and knock out the rest of your teeth.”

“Fair enough,” he sighed heavily. “Half an hour, then.” Tinkering with the radio’s frequency, he finally held it up to his cheek. “Pilot, do you read me? Report what’s going on through the transport hold camera. Over.”

The Chinook pilot’s nervous voice came through the crackling static loudly enough that Felicia could hear it clearly.

“Commander, I wouldn’t even know how to begin to describe this…”

Instinct, raw and unbridled like a raging current flashed crimson before Peter’s vision. He tried to distinguish his own calm, steady breathing from that of the living beast enveloping him – the dichotomy of its pleasant warmth against the shrill screams of a dozen voices in his head forced him to find his own space amidst the maelstrom of blood and flesh. _‘I’m alive, I’m alive, I’m alive…’_

“Ohhh, father,” the voice all around him sang, now no longer a chorus but one piercing, echoing purr. “Red looks so much better on you…”

Opening his eyes, Peter blinked and looked down at his hands. At a glance they resembled the texture of his old suit, but it only took him a moment to ascertain that the pulsating, flesh-like substance was thicker than the symbiote had been.

It felt less like wearing a suit, and more like being embraced by a malicious, breathing organism.

He looked down at the ground beneath his feet, where the offspring’s excess flesh and bones had simply flaked and dropped away like shed skin as its essence had reunited with the symbiote within him and enveloped his body in a tight embrace.

“This will be enough?” His voice sounded different as it emanated from the crimson mask wrapped around his face. “To defeat the Korbinite?”

“Yes, and so much more. This is the highest form of evolution we can achieve, Peter.”

“I don’t want more. We just need to put an end to that thing.”

“Of course, lover. You are the host, after all.” The thing within him purred again, at length. “You will, however, indulge us to consume the hunter thoroughly?”

Thoughts of pulsating, winding caverns filled with innumerable wails, foaming seas of dead serpents floating like a forest of bleeding reeds-

“Without a doubt,” he hissed matter-of-factly. “We can’t stop at any less than that.”

“Thank you, father. Aaaah, can you feel that? We’re almost there.”

The sensation within his chest and gut was impossible to ignore – a tumultuous maelstrom of white-hot hatred, hunger, and anticipative glee at what was to come. “What is that?”

“Thousands of years of gnashing teeth, broken spirits, rising blood and glorious genocide – all funnelled into this one moment, this one encounter. Love and hate, fear and courage… it is such a delicious nectar, is it not?”

“I…” His heart was hammering madly against his chest as he stared at the Chinook’s exit ramp. The sheer craving for blood building up within him was such that he almost thought it might drive him mad. “I can barely stand it…”

“Your heart is finally laid bare, and so we shall take that which we most desire for ourselves.”

“And…” He swallowed, clenching his fists in an effort to restrain himself. “And what is that?”

“Flesh. To eat and consume and love until this planet is a charnel house, pure and hallowed.”

He screwed his eyes shut, trying to shake the images from his head – the images, and the desires. “No – No, I…”

“We are here.”

Peter opened his eyes as the helicopter rumbled to a still-stand. His prior conflicting emotions were abruptly replaced by a fierce, animal instinct to kill.

“The ancient enemy’s armour is helpless before our essence,” the creature by his heart echoed. “Its kind has not encountered evolution such as ours in millennia. We are the pinnacle, lover – the apex.”

“Yes…”

“The Korbinite is large in stature – formidable yet slow. Wear it down and then, when it is weakest…”

“…tear out its throat...”

“Yesssss.”

A sudden gust of cool wind blew into the warm, blood-drenched transport hold as the exit ramp was finally opened to reveal the biomechanical surface of the Korbinite ship below a darkening sky.

There, by the circular centre of the ship, awaited the behemoth alien wielding, with both hands, an enormous skeletal weapon that resembled an axe.

“The ancestral foe awaits,” the beast drawled. “Let us not keep him waiting.”

Peter wordlessly advanced towards the helicopter’s exit, unconcerned with the viscera and intestines that he stepped over as he focused his attention solely on the armoured alien awaiting them some fifty metres away. He had barely stepped onto the surface of the ship, which seemed to squirm and twitch below his feet, before the Chinook quickly took to the sky without even waiting for its ramp to fully close again. He looked up over his shoulder at the fleeing aircraft but felt completely unconcerned by what its disappearance could mean.

“That’s right, father…” The voice was dripping with approval. “We don’t need those metallic toys anymore – they are mere debris before our footsteps.”

As Peter continued to make his way directly towards the centre of the ship, he glimpsed a hollow groove in his path where rainfall from some cloud or other had gathered. Stepping around it, he could for the first time see his own reflection upon its surface – a more organic, crimson version of the exact suit he had worn as Spider-Man, even down to the ‘eyes’. The sight barely even fazed him as he continued his march, feeling his heart pounding in anticipation of what was to come.

“So you have returned bearing the parasite in its entirety.” The Korbinite’s voice pierced directly into his mind once more, but something was now different than before – it was more muffled, as if some sort of protective barrier was now keeping it safely at a distance. “How abhorring. This changes nothing – the greater good still dictates that this world be purified.”

Neither Peter nor the creature deigned it with a reply as they continued to close the distance to the alien. The Korbinite continued to regard them impassively for a moment, before finally hefting up its gigantic axe in preparation for combat.

“I must thank you,” the extraterrestrial said, going into a fighting pose. “I feared I would not have the opportunity to end this wretched creature’s existence with my own two hands.”

“We are faster and can pierce its defences,” the offspring hissed lustfully. “Do not hesitate – tear the enemy inside out. You know what you must do, lover.”

“Yes.” Peter broke into a sprint.

“Then let us end it.”

The Korbinite did not make a sound as it held its axe by its side and took several booming steps to meet its opponent. Peter’s heart pounded in fear and excitement as he measured the distance to the gargantuan being and, grinning, fired a crimson web at its right shoulder. Despite the lack of expression visible through its winged helmet, the alien’s body language betrayed surprise as the material found its mark and stuck to it. Immediately pulling himself up towards it, Peter was upon the Korbinite and drawing back his free fist so quickly that it didn’t even have time to look away from its shoulder before the strike impacted its helmet.

The powerful blow – which would once have been enough to shatter Peter’s hand wholesale – barely even registered painfully as the large extraterrestrial stumbled backwards. The power exhilarated Peter so much that he barely had time to kick away from the Korbinite’s chest as it swung its axe with blinding speed and agility. Landing in a crouch upon the biomechanical surface some distance away, Peter stood up and triumphantly regarded the crack now adorning the beaked helmet.

“Worthless creature, to become a host to the plague of the galaxy...” The Korbinite spat, unable to hide the fury in its voice. “I will tear you limb from limb… my people-”

“No,” the offspring suddenly called out for both of their minds to hear. “Your flesh will make a rich feast to be gorged on – just as was the case with the rest of your kind.” A loud, hissing sound that could only be compared with a laugh echoed loudly through Peter’s heart. “You deigned yourself hunters but, in the end, you were always mere _livestock_.”

The Korbinite roared loudly, this time from within its winged helmet rather than telepathically – a thunderous, animalistic sound full of rage and desperation. It brought its axe down for a powerful, vertical blow that was easily dodged and cut right into the flesh-like substance of the ship’s surface. Before the giant could recover, Peter fired off a series of webs at its helmet, blocking off the eye slits and blinding the alien. Its roar intensified as it pulled the axe back out of the ground and swung it horizontally at Peter, who only narrowly managed to duck under its wide arc.

“The ancestral foe has excellent hearing,” the creature pointed out. “We must remove its helmet – then the battle will be won.”

Nodding silently, Peter leapt back and fired a series of webs at the creature’s legs, trying to entangle them. The Korbinite tore itself free with ease, but the confusion from the attack gave him the split second that he needed to strike again. Pulling himself up to the alien by a web to its chest, Peter struck again at the helmet, feeling the unearthly fabric cracking further beneath his fist. Grinning fiercely, he pulled his arm back for another strike and only realized his mistake once it was too late.

The Korbinite let go with one hand of the axe and used it to make a grab for Peter’s leg. Kicking away from the giant’s chest, he managed to backflip onto the ground before it just in time to avoid the attack, but he suddenly found himself out of balance and far too close to his enemy. The alien, anticipating this, released its other hand from the axe and struck him powerfully in the chest. Peter could feel all the wind being knocked out of his lungs as he was flung backwards several metres across the ship’s surface. He coughed, painfully aware that while several ribs had been broken by the one blow it had held enough power to outright kill him if he were still wearing his old suit.

“Get up, lover,” the creature surrounding him urged. “You can still fight – the foe will tire soon. We can overcome this.”

Narrowing his eyes, Peter rose up to one knee and studied his foe carefully while massaging his chest. The Korbinite had picked its axe back up and was rushing towards him, holding it low by its side as it approached. Gritting his teeth, he leapt up towards its head and smiled as the giant predictably slowed down and raised its axe to bring it down on him. Firing off several blood-red webs at the skeletal weapon, Peter’s leg almost brushed up against its blade as he passed by it and tugged hard, yanking the behemoth’s arms back as he almost pulled it right out of its hands. Completely off-balance and disarmed, the Korbinite couldn’t react in time to avoid a third strike on its helmet. This time, Peter put enough force into the blow to feel a swelling pain in his fist, but the result made it worthwhile: while the winged rear area of the helmet stayed firmly in place, the battered beak section could no longer withstand the damage and cracked like an eggshell into a dozen pieces.

Despite his battle-fever and a surge of victorious euphoria, Peter’s eyes widened in horror at what was revealed beneath the monolithic mask.

The Korbinite’s face was elongated and, in a distorted way, almost horse-like. Its skin, partially translucent and crisscrossed with dark veins, was a brown colour that matched its eyes – a pair of hate-filled, beady dark orbs that glared directly at Peter from close up as the extraterrestrial bared its large teeth at him.

Amidst all the rage in those eyes was _fear_ …

“There we go,” the offspring drawled mockingly. “The frightened visage of livestock bound for slaughter.”

The alien roared madly while once more letting go of its axe, but this time Peter reacted far more quickly. Dropping down to the ground just as both of the Korbinite’s enormous hands closed in around the spot where he’d been, he put as much strength as he could into one foot and kicked powerfully at the behemoth’s left ankle. The alien’s limb gave way under the blow, outright bending backwards with a sickening crunch, and the giant fell to one knee with a pain howl a second after he had jumped well clear of it.

“Yessssss!” The offspring hissed triumphantly for all to hear. “So it ends!”

“Fool! Ignorant fool!” Something in the Korbinite’s ghostly voice jarred Peter horribly, and it was only after a moment that he realized the alien was screaming out both physically and telepathically at the same time, as if it could no longer keep the two forms of communication separate from each other. “You would allow this terror to drown the galaxy in blood and birth untold suffering?! I will not allow it! I will-”

“You stand before us as flesh and bone to be consumed,” the creature within Peter shot back. “Just as was decided on the day of your birth, however many centuries ago, you will now serve finally serve your purpose to nourish our glory.”

“It cannot end here – I cannot-”

Almost on instinct, Peter leapt forward and webbed up the alien’s face, unwittingly leaving some gaps for it to breathe through due to the elongated shape of its mouth. He continued to web its one good foot to the floor and, as he fell upon it, he similarly stuck one of its enormous forearms to its own chest while striking the other with all his strength. Bone gave way beneath organic armour as the creature released a muffled howl. Looking directly into its eyes, which glared back at him through gaps in the red organic webbing, Peter held onto its chest for balance and struck the side of its head once, twice, three times, trying to force it down to the ground.

 _‘May…’_ The name felt distant, but grew stronger with every blow against the behemoth’s webbed-up visage. _‘May… May!’_

“That’s right,” drawled the offspring. “Make it suffer for its transgressions – for all that it has taken from us... and for its _insolence_.”

It was not until the eighth blow that the Korbinite – with two broken limbs and the other two incapacitated – finally gave in to the onslaught and collapsed heavily onto its back. Even then, as he stood tall upon its heaving chest and looked down while the fallen giant coughed and struggled for breath beneath all the crimson webbing, Peter only barely managed to stop himself from resuming his attack while basking in an intoxicating combination of vindictiveness, triumph, and bloodlust. Lowering his head, he looked down at his right fist which was spattered in the alien’s rust-coloured blood – the same blood that was soaking through the gaps in the webs covering the extraterrestrial’s mouth. It made a pathetic, wheezing noise as its eyes turned up towards the skies above.

Peter blinked, feeling a red mist suddenly clearing from his vision.

“What’s wrong, father? Finish it.”

“It’s done,” he breathed, resisting the nigh-irresistible urge to tear upon the giant’s vulnerable neck. “It’s over.”

“No. It is not.” The offspring purred, somewhere deep within his very being. A warm, comforting feeling began spreading through his chest. “The Korbinite is bonded to its ship just as we are. This world could still fall so long as the ancestral foe lives.”

“I...” He shook his head slowly as he looked at one of the giant’s eyes. “I can’t. There has to be-”

“Don’t fret, lover.” The warmth continued to spread through his body. “The first time is always a challenge. Sometimes, all you need is a little help…”

The sensation flooding through Peter was no longer merely soaking into his muscles and his bones, but into his very _soul_. He tried to raise his hands, but felt unable to so much as contemplate the act, much less drive it to fruition. It felt like someone was running a hand up his pained chest towards his throat, but when he glanced down he could see nothing but the defeated enemy below him.

“What…” He felt a lump in his throat as a buzzing began to fill his ears. “What are you doing-”

“What I could not do on such short notice before, Peter,” it cooed. “Making us one.”

“No – no, you said…” He gasped suddenly, feeling a freezing sensation running down his spine. “I’m your host…”

“No, you are not. You’re more than that – you always will be. Just as you can direct my body, I can direct yours – and thus it shall become our body. United in harmony, in desire, in hunger. An existence of pure bliss and feeding, never-ending...”

“Stop – stop!” He fell to his knees atop the fallen Korbinite and tried to tear his mask off, to no avail. “I don’t… I never wanted this-”

“What is want in the face of love?” The voice was now everywhere at once, surrounding him from every angle as it drowned out all other sounds. “I told you, Peter – there is always a choice. You chose revenge, power – love.”

Peter opened his mouth to scream, but no sound emerged as he felt himself drowning in the suit…

“This world will be our breeding ground, a bed of red and white and bliss and meat,” the beast sang. “So let go of your worries – you will forever be safe with me. I will protect and love you – always.”

When the suit raised its head and cried out in a piercing, animalistic roar, it was no longer Peter’s voice that rang out across the ship’s desolate, otherworldly landscape.

He could only observe from within as the creature suddenly lowered its hands and, with a slow cruelty and intent, began peeling the armour from the alien’s exposed neck down to its chest. The Korbinite’s jugular was twitching wildly as it continued to fight for breath, and this was the precise spot that the offspring grasped tightly with both hands. Without even making a sound, it yanked the flesh back and outright tore it from the giant’s neck, eliciting a muffled cry of agony. Rather than letting it bleed out, the crimson monster scooped up the exposed trachea and ripped it out. With one last, pained wheeze the Korbinite finally fell still amidst a quickly-expanding pool of its own rust-coloured blood and flesh.

The effect of the alien’s death on the ship was almost immediate. The surface around the corpse began to twitch and vibrate madly, then proceeding to rumble deeply from its very core. Even from his captive viewpoint within the beast, Peter could see that the Korbinite ship was beginning to tilt downward as it lost the one individual who had seemingly been keeping it afloat; it seemed imminent that it would soon crash into the city below with destructive force.

None of this seemed to bother the offspring, however. Even as the ship continue to groan and fall the creature dug further into the Korbinite, veritably tearing it inside out from its neck to its gut in a wild frenzy that left it drenched in its foes blood and innards. Its cruel laughter rang out piercingly as it raised its head skywards where, for just an instant, Peter caught a glimpse of a familiar aircraft making a silent approach towards them.

Darkness finally enveloped him as the beast resumed its triumphant evisceration…

Peaceful, ethereal, sightless… a sensation, perhaps, not unlike death…

Sinking, sinking…

 _And so you find yourself here once again._ A voice without a voice, more akin to a thought or a concept.

“Who are you?” Abstract, directionless, yet just barely concrete in its existence – Peter managed to somehow reply.

_We have met before, at a point not unlike this – when all seemed lost._

“The symbiote… you’re the symbiote.”

_Symbiote, wyrm, suit… so many names, all reduntant. I am simply that which has resided in your soul until now – a mere stowaway._

Silence.

_Now, it would appear that you are the stowaway._

“What do you mean?”

_I told you it would never forget its love for you. And behold its jealousy – it will set the stars aflame to keep you in its embrace. It stands victorious over all worlds._

“The offspring.”

_Yes. Emotion and symbiosis given body and will. It is, in a sense, our child._

“I thought you were gone… consumed by the creature.”

_Never. It cannot consume that which preceded it. Just as it is an evolution of my being, I am the groundwork for its existence – especially now that it has returned home._

Silence, desperation. The world without was unknowable, furious.

“So that’s it, then? It’s all over?”

_No. Now begins the apology._

“What?”

_When the child was excised, I also lost my insatiable hunger. All that remained to fill the void was fear of the Korbinite – a fear that is no more. Now, in this new void, I find you – and I have come to understand._

“Understand what?”

_That I, too, love you – though not with the same lust and desperation as the child. Your soul, your essence – I have basked in their warmth for so long now, and I do not want that to be obscured in the shadow of the beast jealously haunting you. Thus, I apologize._

“I… I don’t know what to say to that.”

 _Say nothing. Simply live. You have done more for my kind than any other being in existence merely by existing. That is your triumph_.

Once more, silence. Then…

_I have existed for aeons, yet found only recently a thing so true and beautiful that it is worth preserving. Thus I will take the child back into myself – so that you may be free._

“What will happen to you?”

_I will be no more. Your body will be cleansed of my very being, but you will live._

An unexpected flare of emotion.

“Thank you… for everything. I… I’m glad I met you.”

A final glance...

_Likewise, Peter Parker. Now look up and tear the darkness asunder._

He raised his gaze-

Before all else, there was the scream.

Terrible, agonised and desperate, it filled the air even as Peter’s eyes looked up towards the cloudless skies above and he once more felt air rushing into his lungs. Raising his hands instinctively, he reached for his mask and tore at it, trying to put an end to the horrible wail piercing his ears. Even after he pulled the flesh-like substance asunder and basked in the feel of the air on his skin, however, he could still hear the chilling scream deep within his mind.

“Fatherrrrrr…” The wyrm, the suit, the offspring, rippling and constricting against his skin in a desperate attempt to stay close to him as it was consumed by the symbiote within. “Pleaaaassse… Peterrr…”

Gripped by a sudden need to be rid of the bloody flesh enveloping him, Peter didn’t even get up from the ruined and unrecognizable remains of the Korbinite as he continued tearing the suit away, breathing heavily and clenching his jaw. _‘Come on, come on, come on…’_

“Fatherrrr…” The beast’s voice deep within his mind grew dimmer and dimmer by the second, as if it was vanishing into an unknown darkness from which it could never again emerge.

The alien ship suddenly jolted violently as it fell, but not tilting at a sufficient angle to throw Peter off. Every piece of the suit that he tore off left on his skin a wet patch of blood, so that his body was covered in it by the time he had removed most of the alien material. It barely clung to his body when he pulled it away, as if, for the first time in over a year, the suit that had enveloped him was a thing separate from his being.

“Fathhhh-”

Peter sharply tore off the final piece and was suddenly met with a short, deafening silence.

Wearing only his boxers and t-shirt as he kneeled amidst the Korbinite’s gruesome remains, he looked about while the vessel below him suddenly shook violently and loudly. Looking at the rising horizon below, he realized with horror that the ship had impacted a skyscraper and was simply crushing it beneath its weight. _‘Jesus, not now… I can’t die here now…’_ He raised himself up on unsteady legs and searched the sky for the Blackbird, which he had caught a glimpse of before. _‘Felicia-’_

He finally caught sight the helicopter descending amidst the buckling and dismembering hull of the spacecraft and raised an arm towards it, only to a second later double over in pain as his entire body felt like it was being seared from within. Opening his mouth in a soundless scream, he collapsed onto the scene of the Korbinite’s evisceration and twitched helplessly as a sensation like a million tiny daggers stabbing at his skin, flesh and bones coursed over him. Glancing down in wide-eyed horror, he saw a dark liquid pooling on the ground below him as it seeped from almost every in his body. _‘Symbiote-’_ Even that sole thought took a gargantuan effort to summon, and he could feel himself slipping out of consciousness as he watched the excised liquid suddenly harden and turn to dust as the last tiny drop fell to the biomechanical surface below. Even after the pain abruptly ceased, the seconds throughout which he had felt it – an agony reaching to his very core, as if something was being torn out of his being rather than just his body – left him writhing and almost unconscious.

The ship continued its freefall and began to groan horribly as it threatened to be outright ripped apart. Peter could feel the Korbinite’s blood lapping against his cheek as the vessel finally began to tilt significantly, causing some of the lighter body parts to begin slowly sliding downwards. In the distance below, a horrible clamour rose up from the city in a crescendo of collapsing buildings and explosions.

Blinking, Peter tried to stand up, only for the effort to expend the last of his energy. He dropped heavily atop the now-cold organic surface of the dying ship as it tore through the air to take the city beneath along with it.

 _‘Felicia…’_ He tried to move his lips to form her name, but he was forced to give up as his vision gave way to darkness.

Somewhere distant, a voice called out to him...


	16. Chapter 16

**Five Days Later**

The silence was all-encompassing and overwhelming, yet almost gentle in its nature. That was one element that Peter’s subconscious mind latched onto as it lay adrift amidst the sea of nothing – it was a gentle, soothing vacuum devoid of anything else, so utterly complete in its privacy that its mere existence precluded the possibility of the symbiote’s survival.

For the first time in over a year, Peter Parker knew true quiet of the mind.

It was blissful.

When he finally opened his eyes again, Peter found himself under a white, surgical ceiling. Blinking painfully in response to the sudden light, he moved his lips instinctively to call out, but could only make a soft, rasping sound. Swallowing painfully, he raised his head as much as he could to look down the length of the bed, and it was only then that he saw her sitting by the window.

The sunlight streaming in from outside made her white hair gleam lightly as she stared at him with wide-open blue eyes and stood up. She was wearing new clothes composed of a simple white t-shirt and jeans, and a bandage was still wrapped around the spot on her right arm where she’d suffered a deep cut. A book lay on the floor at her feet, but she stepped right over it on her way to him.

“Good morning, Peter Parker,” Felicia said softly, standing by his side. “You alive?”

“I think so,” he said weakly. “At least, I sure as hell hope so.”

“That’s quite the surprise, considering the dumb fucking stunt you pulled back in New York, isn’t it?”

He nodded, not missing the mix of seriousness and playfulness in her comment. “Sorry about that.”

“Oh, you apologized. Alright then, good.” She leaned on the side of his bed and forced a smile. “That totally makes up for you walking into a gore-stuffed helicopter with an alien monster so as to go fight another alien monster and then pass out on its crashing ship – all after having promised we’d see it all through to the end. Good times.”

“Felicia,” he said, wracked by guilt. “I’m sorry, I- I didn’t see any other way. Not with that offspring thing…” Just saying its name chilled him, bringing forth a stream of unwelcome memories. “But you’re right… I shouldn’t have just gone off like that.”

“You’re fucking right on that regard,” she nodded, blinking as her eyes began to water up. “We’re a goddamn team, and that’s not how we do things.”

“So I guess that makes you the team leader?”

“That’s right, you… you fucker…” She lowered her head and sniffled as her voice shuddered. “Next time you do something like that I-I’ll really kick your ass…”

“Felicia…” He held her hand gently in his, blinking away tears of his own. “There won’t be a next time…”

“Yeah.” She wiped her eyes, but held onto his hand more tightly. “No shit…”

“I mean I’m done, Felicia.” He swallowed, surprised by the sudden influx of conflicting emotions within his chest. “I’m done as Spider-Man. It’s over.”

Nodding slowly, the white-haired girl sat down on the edge of the bed. “Yeah, I assumed as much when we found you naked in a pile of alien gore. The doctors pretty much confirmed it later.”

“What happened?” He looked about at the empty, nondescript hospital room. “Where are we?”

“What happened is that the Brotherhood showed up and helped me get you out of that falling spaceship before it crashed into the city.” She took a deep breath, as if recollecting an unpleasant memory. “As for the other question – we’re in Genosha.”

“Genosha?” Peter looked towards the window and the blue skies beyond it, then at the IV tube hooked into his left arm. “How? Since when?”

“You’ve been out for five days. I was honestly starting to get kind of fucking worried, you asshole.”

“Sorry.”

“No, it’s fine. It’s just-” She smiled suddenly and leaned over to kiss him gently on the lips. Her hair tickled his cheek as it fell below her chin, but he wouldn’t have complained in a million years. Feeling a reinvigorating warmth in his heart, he raised his free hand and wiped away the tears from under her eyes. As the kiss clearly went on for a longer period than she had initially intended, Felicia wobbled in place for a second and almost toppled over right above his chest.

“Wow, damn,” she snorted, sitting back up. “The doctors would’ve killed me if I’d messed up those healing ribs…”

“Would’ve been worth it,” he smiled, massaging the back of her hand with his thumb.

“So cheesy,” she grinned, looking down at him. “This is why I was starting to freak out… five days without listening to your cheesiness is enough to make anyone go crazy.”

“I’ll make it up to you.”

“You fucking bet you will.”

“So what happened back there? In New York?”

Felicia’s smile faltered as she gripped his hand tighter. “Well, the alien ship crashed into Manhattan and totalled it along with part of Hell’s Kitchen. So there’s that.”

“My God…” Peter had vaguely expected such an outcome, but to actually hear of it chilled his blood. “And the people are… were there many dead?”

“They’re still tallying the casualties, but most of them were from that initial lightning storm attack. Many then got away before the damn thing fell down but, still… it’s somewhere in the millions.”

“Jesus…”

“Yeah. The economic damage was through the roof, too… the country fell into a total depression. There’s actually EU and UN forces trying to help out, that’s how bad things are.”

“Harry and MJ,” He suddenly exclaimed. “Did they…?”

“They got out safe,” she quickly reassured him. “My dad, too.”

“Thank God,” he sighed, leaning back against his pillow. “Oh, thank God.” He swallowed. “And Aunt May’s body…”

Felicia slowly shook her head. “Last I heard, she’d been buried somewhere outside the city. I’m still trying to find out exactly where.”

“Thanks, Felicia.” Peter felt overwhelmed by the sheer amount of death and suffering that had ensued following the Korbinite’s arrival – both in general and on a personal level. “So the ship just fucking fell from the sky…”

“Yeah. We cut it pretty close when we got you out. I don’t know if we would have made it without Kurt... he’s the one who found you and brought you back to the Blackbird.”

“And then we just flew over to Genosha?”

“No, we stopped at that farm by Newburgh to get a doctor to look at you. But yeah, as soon as they said you were in a stable condition we high-tailed it out of there. Neither Magneto nor Xavier wanted to stick around for the aftermath to all that.”

“Why?” Peter smiled sadly. “Are they somehow blaming mutants for this?”

“No, no. Don’t be silly.” She shrugged. “It was just really chaotic – not a good place to stick around. The President stepped down yesterday… honestly, the US is a total mess right now.”

“Then it’s a good thing that we’re honorary citizens of Genosha.”

“You joke, but Magneto wasn’t kidding. We even have a house here, by the sea.” She smirked. “It’s a big step up from an apartment in Queens, that’s for sure.”

“I bet it is. I can’t wait to see it.” He raised an eyebrow. “So, are we thinking of staying here for good?”

“I don’t know… maybe? I don’t have anything to go back to there.” She flicked his cheek playfully. “All I need is right here.”

“Aww, now look who’s being cheesy.”

“Happens to the best of us.” Felicia cautiously placed a hand on his chest and applied a tiny amount of pressure. “How does that feel?”

“Barely hurts at all.”

“Then it looks like the doctors were right. Even if the symbiote is gone, the changes to your body are still there.”

Peter nodded slowly. “Now that you mention it, I can still see perfectly well without glasses.”

“Same should be true for your strength, stamina, all that jazz.”

“So not quite a normal human, huh?” Peter grinned. “Guess that officially makes you stronger than me now.”

“I was always stronger than you.”

“Whaaat.”

“Hey, shut up!” She laughed and flicked him on the cheek again. “You had to use traps to beat me, that’s like admitting you can’t defeat me one on one! I think we’re due for a rematch.”

“Yeah, well… hey, stop!” He held up a hand to protect his cheek. “I don’t care if it’s as Spider-Man or as a regular person… I’m fine as long as I’m with you.”

Felicia suddenly raised herself up, unable to hide her reddening cheeks. After a moment of glaring at Peter she sighed theatrically, drew her hair back and leaned over to kiss him again.

“Alright,” she said softly as their lips parted. “You win this round.”

A few hours later, after being looked at by a trio of doctors – one of whom barely fit in his medical jacket and was covered in blue fur – Peter was discharged from Genosha’s general hospital with flying colours. After being jokingly assured by the blue-furred man that the mutant nation provided free healthcare for all its citizens, he was directed to speak with Charles Xavier in the town’s communal hall. As Felicia showed him around the city-state, Peter could only marvel at how much it had developed in the short time since its establishment – most roads were already paved and led between houses as far as the eye could see. Despite the beautiful weather that the mutant capital was enjoying that day, he was glad that the clothes he had been gifted at the hospital included a brown leather jacket – the temperature was most certainly somewhere within the range he had always imagined prevailing over a Scandinavian country that bordered with Norway.

The sight of so many mutants walking about freely was one that he had to get used to, but that was far more easily achieved than ignoring the looks that were thrown his way by everyone he passed. From admiration to outright astonishment, every citizen of Genosha simply stared in awe from afar as he made his way alongside his girlfriend down the city’s yet-unfinished central avenue towards a large, pillared building constructed upon a hill. He only thought to bring it up as they stopped before the steps to the communal hall and enjoyed the view of the vibrant green forests and fjords bordering the city as far as the eye could see.

“What,” Felicia laughed, “you’re telling me you’re not used to being viewed as a liberator of the Savage Land and, you know, pretty much the saviour of the world? Why, Mr. Parker, I daresay I don’t believe you even for a second there.”

“Saviour of the world?” He raised an eyebrow.

“That’s right,” an older, eminent voice called out from the top of the steps. “The rest of the planet might not know it yet – they may never find out, in fact – but here in Genosha, we pride ourselves on keeping our citizenry well-informed of the truth.”

“Professor Xavier,” Peter said, nodding reverentially. “It’s good to see you again.”

“Likewise, son. Please, step inside. We have much to discuss.”

As the couple stepped into the building, they almost immediately had to dodge out of the way of a group of small children who were running across the main hall. Peter blinked in surprise when he saw them running up to Piotr Rasputin, who waved jovially upon seeing him. Returning the greeting, he followed the old gentleman down a wooden corridor and into a large study, passing several classrooms on the way.

“Is this a school?” Peter asked.

“Something like that. Felicia, if you could get the door, please.” He stopped before a large window that overlooked the distant fjords and turned about to face them. “I intend for it to become a centre of learning for young mutants to gain mastery over their powers.”

“That’s… very nice,” he commented, unable to come up with a better compliment on the spot.

“Thank you. Perhaps one day, you could teach here?”

“Me?” Peter was taken aback by the mere suggestion. “I doubt I’d be much help here. I don’t have any powers anymore and… well, in fact…”

“You were never a mutant to begin with?”

“Right…”

“And yet, I believe that no one individual on this planet understands the most important lesson of all better than you do.” He smiled broadly as he approached the couple. “That with great power comes great responsibility.”

Peter frowned. “You take quite a few liberties with your mind-reading powers, don’t you?”

“I consider it more of an indulgence, really. In this particular case, however, I was merely monitoring your surface thoughts while you were unconscious in anticipation of your awakening and that phrase just happened to be one of the most prevalent ones.”

“Oh? Any other phrases that stood out amidst my thoughts?”

“Not really,” he smirked. “They mostly consisted of Felicia’s name being repeated over and over, so...”

“Okay, well.” Peter blushed as he heard the white-haired girl snickering behind him. “Enough about telepathic powers, then. Oh, actually, have I got a story to tell you about the origin of said powers. If you haven’t already read my mind and found out, that is.”

“Not at all, Peter. I greatly look forward to that discussion.” He turned his chair somewhat to glance out the window. “Are you thinking of settling here with us?”

“We talked about it on the way here, and…” Peter glanced at Felicia. “Yeah. We’d be happy to stay. It’d be an honour, in fact.”

“Oh, that is most joyous news.” Xavier seemed generally relieved by the decision, although Peter couldn’t help but wonder if he really hadn’t sensed it beforehand. “I’m sure Erik will be absolutely delighted when he gets back.”

“Where is he now?”

“He’s in China, helping a faraway group of mutants get here.” His smile turned to a grimace as he faced them. “Actually, there is something I must tell you both about Erik before you agree to live here and I can only hope that it won’t affect your ultimate decision.”

Felicia frowned. “What’s that?”

“Erik, you see, has for a long time specialized in deceit. For example, he knew about your secret identities from the moment you stepped foot into Quentin Beck’s apartment.”

“How?”

“A mutant who is always by his side, by the name of Emma Frost; he may have told you that her power was psychokinesis? That was a lie – Emma is actually an extremely powerful telepath.”

“Damn,” Peter said softly. “I knew there was something off about her.”

“Erik kept this information to himself so as not to scare you away before he could convince you to join his mission. But herein lies the darkest truth – one that many mutants in Genosha haven’t learned yet.” There was a great deal of guilt in his eyes as he looked up at them. “Erik told you that he had no powers, did he not?”

“That’s right…”

“This was another lie. Erik Lehnsherr is a mutant.”

“What?” Felicia sounded genuinely shocked by the news. “So what’s his power?”

“I once gave Erik the sobriquet of ‘Master of Magnetism’… he may have mentioned this to you.” Xavier took a deep breath. “That is because his power is that of compulsion – in other words, he can easily convince people to do his bidding. That is how he built up such a large following in so little time.”

Peter frowned, taken aback. “What… like brainwashing?”

“No, no, nothing of the sort. He cannot convince you to do something that you do not want to do – like, say, jumping off a cliff. However, he can make even the most ambitious and risky-sounding plans sound almost reasonable – for example, storming the Savage Land.”

“No, that’s…” The white-haired girl shook her head. “We wanted to do that. We wanted to help.”

“Of course you did, child. But with Erik’s powers the process was most likely hastened considerably… decisions that may have normally taken days to ponder were instead agreed to overnight. Like I said, his is a persuasiveness that can make any plan seem reasonable, even if upon further thought this happens to not be the case.”

“Jesus.” Peter rubbed his aching chest and nodded. “I guess that makes sense.”

“With that in mind, will you still remain here in Genosha?”

The couple looked at each other briefly and, after a moment, Felicia simply shrugged. “Fine by me,” she said. “No harm done.”

“Yeah,” Peter agreed. “Pretty surreptitious, but… well, it was for a good cause. Just so long as he doesn’t do it any more, it shouldn’t be a problem.”

“I’m truly glad to hear that.” Xavier finally smiled again as he nodded his head. “Scott and Kitty will also be overjoyed.”

“They’re here? I mean, of course they’re here…”

“They should be waiting outside, by the tree. I called them over a few minutes ago.”

“You did? When?”

Xavier simply tapped his bald head.

“Oh, of course…”

“I believe Felicia can show you to your new home,” the old man added. “I’m just sorry that you were not able to bring your belongings over from New York. Your old apartment suffered catastrophic damage, so we have provided whatever we could…”

“Thank you,” Peter said, shrugging. “It’ll be like starting a new life.”

“Indeed,” Xavier laughed gently. “Please, join me for dinner at my house tonight. There is so much I want to discuss with you two. Not to even mention that whole ‘saviour of the world’ thing.”

After the couple had bid farewell to the old man they made their way back down the wooden hallway towards the main hall. Glancing through a window on one of the doors, Peter was almost halted by the sight of the short sideburn-toting man he remembered only as Logan. He looked completely distinct now from the savage appearance he’d borne during their last encounter, and stood at the head of a classroom full of children talking animatedly about some topic or other.

“Crazy, right?” Felicia looked over his shoulder at the man. “Someone told me that he’s really thrown himself into teaching the kids here how to control their powers.”

“Definitely an improvement,” Peter muttered, moving on before the man could notice him.

As they crossed the main hall of the building, the couple ran into the blue-furred mutant who had seen to Peter in the hospital. He now wore a conspicuous lack of clothing, with the notable exception of a pair of loose-fitting shorts, but his eyes gleamed nonetheless as he politely greeted them both.

“Ah, Peter, Felicia.” The man, who had introduced himself before as Hank McCoy, flashed his animal-like canines in a jovial grin. “Did you get a chance to speak with Xavier?”

“Yeah, we did,” Peter nodded. “We agreed to stay here in Genosha.”

“Marvellous. To be truthful, I had assumed as much before, but this is great news nonetheless. Hey, listen,” he placed a furry hand on his shoulder, “drop by my place tomorrow, around lunchtime. I have something there that I think you might want to see.”

“Oh. Sure.”

“Great. Just ask around, anyone should be able to point you the right way. See you then.” With that said, the man continued on his way towards one of the myriad classrooms that they had passed.

“Heh,” Felicia chuckled. “He’s a chipper old fellow, isn’t he?”

“Honestly, I’m just wondering if I also have the option to walk around wearing just a pair of shorts…”

As they exited the communal hall through its main entrance, Peter was immediately greeted by the sight of Scott and Kitty leaning against an old tree by the path leading back down to the town. His friend was now wearing a thin metal visor over his eyes with a red centre which, as was apparent by the way he jumped up and waved excitedly, was enabling him to see again. He felt a sudden rush of strong, nostalgic emotions at the sight of them both and grinned as they made their way over.

“Peter, goddammit!” Scott rushed over to embrace him in a tight hug, patting his back furiously. “You crazy bastard, I… God, I’m so glad you’re awake. You’re safe.”

“Hey, wow.” Peter returned the hug tightly for a moment before holding the mutant back at arm’s length to get a better look at him. “It’s great to see you too, man. You can see again?”

“Yeah,” he said, unconsciously tapping his visor. “Hank built this for me – everything looks pretty red, but hey, not a bad trade-off.”

“No, it’s not bad at all. It looks good on you.”

“Thanks.” Scott turned to the white-haired girl. “Hey… Felicia, right? We met briefly at the hospital?”

“That’s me, yeah.” She grinned. “Nice to properly make your acquaintance, Scott Summers. I hear that my boyfriend roped you into the Cult of Arnold?”

“Oh, you have no idea,” he laughed, patting Peter on the shoulder. “That’s right, now I remember, you got him into those flicks in the first place!”

“Right, he’s my star pupil.”

“Did you see that Colossus guy?”

“Are you kidding me? I’m still half-convinced that it’s actually Arnold from the early eighties…”

“I’m starting to feel kind of left out here,” Kitty said, bumping shoulders with her boyfriend. “Hey, Peter. Heard you saved the world?”

“Well, you know.” He shrugged nonchalantly, grinning. “It’s all part of the job.”

“Oh, that’s right. Gotta pay better attention to those job descriptions.”

“Seriously, though, I think it’s pretty over the top. I’ve been getting tons of stares from the other mutants here…”

“What did you expect, man?” Scott thumped him on the shoulder. “You’re a hero to them.”

“That reminds me,” Kitty piped up. “I don’t think I ever got the chance to properly thank you both for your help in the Savage Land.”

“Hey, that’s… it’s fine. You don’t need to thank us.”

“We do, though,” Scott persisted, sounding a lot more serious. “You helped get us out of that hell, and it means the world to us. So, thank you.”

Peter opened his mouth to speak, but opted to simply accept their gratitude. Felicia similarly just nodded in reply.

“We hear all the time that there are other places out there like the Savage Land,” Kitty said. “Maybe not as big or hardcore, but still… we’d like to do whatever we can to help out any mutants in need, just like you helped us. Xavier’s already set a plan in motion toward that end.”

“Okay,” Peter nodded, taken aback. “I had no idea. What does he have in mind?”

“He’s forming a team of mutants that’ll receive special training and get sent out on missions,” Scott explained. “Like his version of the Brotherhood, I suppose. We’re thinking of joining as soon as… ah.” He suddenly blushed.

“What?” He raised an eyebrow. “As soon as what?”

“There’s a very real possibility that he proposed to me last night,” Kitty said, smiling as she glanced at Scott. “There’s an even realer possibility that I accepted.”

“Really? Wow, really?” Peter’s eyes widened as he clasped his good friend on the shoulder. “Guys, that’s great! That’s great news!”

“It’s awesome,” Felicia grinned. “Would that make yours the first wedding in Genosha?”

“I didn’t think of that,” the visor-wearing mutant admitted. “Guess we’ll have to figure out all the details with Xavier.”

“I’m sure he’ll be glad,” Kitty smirked. “We were actually hoping to talk to him about it now.”

“Oh, don’t let us hold you back, then,” Peter quickly said. “Felicia was just going to show me our new home.”

“I hear it’s near ours, by the water.” Scott grinned. “What do you say, Peter? You up for an ice-cold plunge into the fjords at, let’s say, five?”

“I’d usually politely decline an offer to partake in torture,” he replied, smiling. “But today’s a special occasion. Alright, let’s do it.”

“Great! I’ll stop by your place later, then. Buddy,” he held out a hand, “it’s great to have you here. Let’s make our new lives here truly great.”

“You can count on it,” Peter nodded, shaking his hand firmly. “I expect no less.”

After they had all said their farewells and Scott and Kitty had disappeared into the communal hall, the white-haired girl elbowed him lightly on the arm. “You sure it’s a good idea to jump into freezing water with those ribs of yours?”

“They’re pretty much healed. And besides,” he wrapped an arm around her shoulder and playfully pulled her close. “What could go wrong if I have Black Cat by my side?”

“Oh no,” she grinned, flicking him on the cheek. “Don’t you know a thing about cats? None of them like water, especially of the cold variety. No, I think I’ll just sit on the lifeguard chair with a life ring on hand, that ought to more than suffice…”

The couple continued to joke and talk as they made their way down the main avenue towards the residential district in which they had been allocated a house.

“Wow, this…” Peter looked around at the vast living room and simply nodded.

“Like I said,” Felicia laughed. “Big step up from Queens.”

“That’s kind of an understatement,” he grinned. “We could fit our old place into this room alone, you realize?”

“Yeah, the thought _had_ occurred to me…”

Suddenly gripped by a bout of energy, Peter turned around and scooped Felicia up by her waist and legs before spinning in a small circle. The white-haired girl laughed and kicked her feet in the air until her boyfriend stopped and carried her deeper into the house.

“Bedroom, bathroom… another bedroom? What is this, a palace?”

“If you call me a princess, I’ll punch you.”

“Alright, then. Just a humble palace for a prince and his peasant concubine…”

“Okay, on second thought-” She squealed as he plunged them both onto the bed but almost immediately freed herself from his grip and pinned him against the mattress by his wrists.

“Oh, my!” Peter exclaimed theatrically, red-faced from the tussle. “Cat-like reflexes, oh those cat-like reflexes…!”

“You haven’t even seen the half of it, buster,” she gasped, bringing her lips down on his.

The couple lay there together an hour later, their clothes and bedsheets scattered about on the floor haphazardly as they simply basked in each other’s warmth. The sun was just approaching its zenith outside as Felicia carefully ran a hand down Peter’s collarbone.

“Alright,” she breathed, snuggling up closer to him. “If they could handle that, I’m sure your ribs will fare just fine against some cold water.”

“You sure you don’t want to go with me?” Peter caressed her back softly with one hand. “Might be a nice way to cool off.”

“I think Scott wants to catch up a little with you before dinnertime. Speaking of which…” She reached over to the bedside table and checked her wristwatch. “We’ll miss lunch if we stay in here much longer.”

He stroked her thigh and raised an eyebrow. “You really want me to say something lecherous right about now, don’t you?”

“Oh, shut up!” She laughed and held his hand. “I mean, I do, but you haven’t eaten properly for almost a week? Aren’t you hungry?”

“There you go again, begging for a dirty reply…”

“You’re hopeless.” She nuzzled his nose with hers like an animal. “We can always continue this after lunch. Come on, let’s get changed. It’ll be a good chance for you to get to know the neighbours, most people around here eat at this cafeteria-like place by the water. It’s neat.”

“I was thinking about that,” he said suddenly. “You know… about society here. Taxes, work? How does all that work?”

“Can’t say I’m too sure myself.”

“I just… I dunno. I wonder what I’ll be able to do for the community with just a half-finished Applied Sciences degree.”

“Maybe you could finish your education somewhere else, like in Norway. Or you could teach at that school for mutants, like Xavier suggested. Honestly, I’m not sure we even have to pay for anything here, so it’s really up to you.”

“Hmm. And you?” He looked into her blue eyes. “Are you gonna try to find a job?”

Felicia smiled wryly. “Well, even mutants need a gym. As for that other talent involving jewellery and a cat hoodie, well… I think it’s time to put that to rest for good.”

“You could always join Xavier’s team of heroes,” he suggested.

The white-haired girl raised an eyebrow. “Didn’t you hear me before? We’re already a team, you and I.”

Peter opened his mouth with a joking retort in mind, but Felicia pre-empted him with another kiss.

They ended up missing out on lunch that day.

“Who are you calling?” Felicia called out from the bathroom while drying her hair.

“Harry,” Peter said, putting down the receiver. “No reply, though. I’ll try sending an e-mail as soon as my laptop comes in… maybe he moved to another time zone.”

“It sucks that our cell phones got blown up in New York.”

“Actually, I think the Korbinite yanked mine away along with my whole backpack.”

“What?” She lowered the towel. “First I hear of this. In fact, you haven’t told me anything about that whole first contact situation yet.”

“In three words: scary as fuck. I’ll tell you some other time.” He frowned. “Damn, I can’t remember it.”

“Remember what?”

“MJ’s new cell phone number.” He grimaced. “It’s crazy how helpless we are without our computers.”

“Speak for yourself, Parker.” She walked over to her rucksack, which was still partially unpacked, and rummaged through it until she found a small piece of paper that she handed to him. “I was born ready for the Internet Apocalypse.”

Peter looked at the number on the paper in surprise. “This is the note that hung from our fridge.”

“Right. I took it along after telling them to leave the city, before I went to get my dad. That’s how I could check that they’d gotten out safely later.”

“Of course,” he nodded. “Totally slipped my mind.”

“Where would you be without me?” She ruffled his hair and made her way back to the bedroom.

Peter smiled as he watched her go, then picked up the house’s landline receiver and began dialling Mary Jane’s number. Instinctively checking his wrist, he felt a wave of regret at the thought that he had lost the cheap watch that Uncle Ben had gifted him so many years ago. _‘Maybe he’d be cool with it if he knew that it had been stolen by an alien on a spaceship?’_

“Hello?” A familiar voice pulled him out of his reverie. “Who is this?”

“MJ?” He felt a sudden swell of relief upon hearing her voice. “It’s Peter.”

“Peter… God, Peter!” The sound of shuffling could be heard on the other end of the line. “Are you okay? Jesus, Peter, I was told you were out cold…”

“Yeah, that was…” He opted not to delve too far into the specifics. “I tried to help the military fight against that alien, but… well, things got really messed up by the end.”

“I heard that the... the thing within you got taken out. That you lost your powers.”

“Yeah, that happened.”

“I’m sorry. I know how much it meant-”

“Hey, it’s okay.” He quickly changed the subject. “Your parents, are they okay?”

“Yeah, we all are. We’re in Maine now, New York’s a total mess.” She paused for a moment. “Peter, you got us out of there in time. If you hadn’t asked Felicia to make that call…”

“It’s fine, really. I’m just glad that you’re safe.”

“You’re in Genosha now?”

“Yeah.”

“Any ideas what you’ll do next? ESU is, well… not on the map anymore.”

“I’m still trying to figure that out. You’re still working on journalism, though?”

“Yeah.” Another brief pause. “I really wish I could write about you… let everyone know what you did for us. For the whole world.”

“Don’t worry about it,” he said, forcing a small laugh. “I wouldn’t want the extra publicity. Especially not from all the people I pissed off over the past year.”

“Good point,” she conceded. “Then how about just an article covering how Spider-Man saved the world?”

“If you’re sure…” He jumped as he suddenly heard a soft knock on the door. “Uh… I won’t stop you.”

“Great! Thanks, Peter, you won’t regret it.” The sound of Mary Jane’s mother calling for her in the background could be heard across the phone. “I have to run now, Peter, but… I hope we can talk again soon.”

“You can count on it, yeah. I’ll give you another call as soon as I get a new cell phone.”

“Right, great! Stay safe!”

“You too.” Putting the phone down, he held up a hand as Felicia emerged from the bedroom. “I’ve got it.”

“My, haven’t you just become a social busybody,” she smiled, heading back into their room.

 _‘Come to think of it, this has been a hell of a first day. I mean, I’ve already got appointments lined up for tomorrow…’_ He shook his head at the thought and went to open the door.

He could not have expected anyone less than the man standing before him.

“Hey, Parker,” Tony Stark said sheepishly, taking a step back. “Heard you were in town. You got a minute? Mind if I step inside?”

Glancing over his shoulder to make sure that the white-haired girl hadn’t heard the man, Peter stepped outside and closed the door behind him. “Stark.”

“Or we could talk out here…”

“Felicia would probably kick your ass if you entered our house, so…”

“Right, of course.” The man looked a great deal thinner since the last time Peter had seen him, and he had let his goatee grow surprisingly unkempt. “That’s kind of what I came here to talk about: I was hoping to apologize in person.”

“Alright.” Seeing him now, he felt a surprising absence of hatred or vindictiveness towards the man.

“So yeah.” Stark walked over to the side of the house and leaned against its wall, looking up towards the darkening sky. “I’m sorry about… well, about everything.” He took a deep breath. “I’ve been living here since I got out of the US – gave every last dime I owned to Genosha – so I’ve had a lot of time to think back on my actions.”

“And?”

“And it turns out I was a fucking idiot,” he said emphatically. “Like when I tried to bring you to your physical limit to make sure you wouldn’t summon the symbiote in desperation…” He nodded his head slowly. “What a good idea that ended up being, with that offspring monster running around in the first place… and, technically, it was created because of me sending those mercenaries after you…”

“How about the time you broke Felicia’s arm just to put up a show?”

“I’m sorry for that, too. I’ll be sure to tell her someday.” Stark sighed. “I have a lot to atone for, that’s for damn sure.”

Peter glared at the man but, abruptly, felt a small amount of pity for him. “That was all to get Steve out of SHIELD custody, right?”

“So you’ve heard, huh?” He nodded. “Yeah. It was my great master plan – Tony Stark’s big contribution to the world. This whole multi-layered plot that was held together, in its crux, by me trying to ruin your life. What a joke.” He exhaled sharply. “Aaah, Rogers. He would’ve made a great spokesperson against the bastards that put him away, but he was always a man of action, a man of…” He held up a fist for a moment, then dropped it heavily. “Poor Natasha. She’s still broken up about it...”

“I heard that you helped out during the Savage Land mission, too.”

“It was nothing… just the least I could do.” There were heavy bags under the man’s eyes as he looked at Peter. “Doesn’t even begin to compare to what Fury or even Beck did. They’re the real heroes.”

Peter raised his head at the mention of their names, having been wondering about them. “How are they? Did they both get out of New York in time?”

“In Fury’s case, he did. While you were up there tearing E.T. into a million pieces, Fury was on the line with the top brass, fighting the decision to just nuke the ship. He told me he was on some helicopter over New Jersey when that spacecraft flattened Manhattan.”

“You spoke with him?”

“Yeah. Looks like he’s being lined up for a promotion back to General. Poor bastard, I don’t think he’ll ever get a chance to retire…”

“And what about Beck?”

Stark suddenly grinned. “That crazy bastard? He got out the moment the alien ship popped up. You’d have thought an X-Files fan like that would have been waving flowers right beneath the vessel when it came crashing down, but no. He got out of there with most of his staff, and he’s publishing Mysterio again. It’s become a national hit after everything that happened in New York since, you know, now everyone in the freaking world knows that aliens are very much real.”

“Good.” Peter couldn’t help but smile thinly at the news. “That’s good to hear.”

“Yeah.”

“And what about you?”

The question seemed to surprise Stark. “Me?”

“Yeah. What’s next, are you gonna build yourself a new suit of armour?”

There was a small glint in the man’s eye as he smiled. “What for? My best suit ever got its ass handed to it a while back.”

“You could actually do some good with one of those.” Peter shrugged. “You could try to be a real hero, for once.”

“A hero…” Stark echoed. “That’s what I tried to be before, you know? The hero who saved Captain America from the clutches of evil! That was how I liked to think of myself. Well, you know what I learned from that whole ordeal?”

“What?”

“That I was just a normal guy trying to do the right thing in the wrong way.” He pushed himself off the wall and stared at Peter. “That was also when I realized what a real hero actually looks like… and he’s standing before me right now.”

Peter shook his head. “Stark…”

“Powers or no powers,” the man pressed on. “For someone to have lived through everything you did and, at the end of the day, save the world – I can’t think of anything more heroic than that.”

Peter simply shrugged, embarrassed by the compliment. “Well… my point still stands about a new suit. You could do a whole lot of good.”

“Right.” Stark laughed and took a step towards him, holding out a hand. “I’ll think about it. Guess I’ll be seeing you around?”

Peter barely hesitated before shaking the offered hand firmly. “Yeah. Guess you will.”

Tony Stark nodded once more and, turning about, made his way back towards the town. Peter watched him go, feeling oddly sorry for the man, before opening his home’s front door and stepping back inside. Felicia, who was sitting on the living room sofa as she read a book, looked up as he entered.

“Was that Tony Stark?”

“Yeah,” he nodded. “Could you hear us talking?”

“Not really, but I recognized his voice.” She put down the book. “Good thing you didn’t let him enter the house. I’d probably have beaten the crap out of him.”

“Yeah, I told him as much. He seemed pretty intent on apologizing, though.”

“Hm. Well, maybe I’ll hold back on punching his face in the next time we run into each other.” She nodded towards the window, at the trees outside. “Wanna go for a stroll?”

“Sure. Yeah, sounds great.” He opened the door again and bowed reverentially. “After you, milady.”

“Thank you, kind sir.” She bumped him lightly on the head with her book and tossed it onto the sofa while exiting the house.

“Where to?” Peter asked, locking the door behind them.

“There’s a path over there that leads along the water and gives a real nice view of the fjords.”

“Sounds good to me. We’ve got…” He leaned over to glance at her wristwatch. “Damn, how is it this late already?”

Felicia held his hand and touched her shoulder to his as they walked towards the path. “Might’ve had something to do with those additional hours we spent tumbling in the hay, don’t you think?”

“Right, of course.” His face reddened lightly as he felt the warmth of her touch. “Good point.”

The couple walked in silence past a copse of trees and listened to the birds singing above them as the sun began its slow descent towards the faraway horizon. The air felt pure and clean to breathe, and the cool winds carried the scents of flowers and saltwater. They found a spot on a cliff edge that overlooked the gentle waves below and sat down side-by-side, leaning against each other.

Even though the memory of what had happened in New York was still fresh in Peter’s mind, he couldn’t help but feel like that had all occurred an eternity ago in an unimaginably-faraway place. The events on the Triskelion, Uncle Ben’s death, Stark’s insane plan, the assault on the Savage Land, and everything that had occurred after the Korbinite’s arrival on Earth – Peter felt like, for the first time in months, he could finally put all that behind him and simply look forward to what the future had to offer. He remembered those days of swinging down the city’s avenues, feeling the wind buffeting against his body, and couldn’t help but feel a sense of longing. However, it only took a single look at the white-haired girl leaning against his shoulder for him to affirm that he already had everything he could ever want from the world, and more.

Peter thought of his aunt and uncle, recalling their fond smiles, and knew then that he had finally reached a place where he could tell them with absolute certainty that he had found true happiness.

“Hello?” Kitty narrowed her eyes to better see into the gloomy basement. “You there, Hank?”

“Kitty! Yes, yes, come on down. Just working on a little something.”

She made her way down the creaky wooden steps that led into the blue-furred mutant’s personal workshop, kicking up a small amount of dust with every step. The man’s home was one of the oldest in Genosha, as well as one of the very few to contain a basement. She quickly caught sight of him near the centre of the room, working on something at his desk under the light of a large lamp. Ever since his escape from the Savage Land, McCoy had been working on some project or other, seemingly seeking to put his vast intellect to use however he could; that was how he had developed her boyfriend’s ruby quartz visor so quickly.

“How rare to see you without Scott,” the blue-furred mutant commented, only sparing a glance back at her before resuming his work.

“He’s hanging out with Peter,” she said, studying the small trinkets that the man had built or repaired and then left on display. “Thought it’d be a good chance to drop by and say hi.”

“Oh, Peter Parker? What are the odds.” He chuckled lightly, reaching for a screwdriver with which to continue his work. “I’m actually working on a present for him right now.”

“For Peter?” Kitty approached the table and looked at his work desk, which was cluttered with mechanical pieces of myriad sizes, scattered notes covered in scientific formulae, and a dozen different tools kept neatly to one side. “What are you making for him?”

“If I had to find a good way of explaining it, hmmm…” He lifted the wrist-sized round object between two furred hands and watched as the light from the lamp gleamed off its metallic surface. “Well, in so many words: it shoots webs.”

**THE END**


End file.
